


The Month of November

by anticipated_username



Category: K-On!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 313,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21277898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticipated_username/pseuds/anticipated_username
Summary: After their final cultural festival performance, the members of the Light Music Club find themselves unsure on how to move forwards. With the promise of separation only a few months away, the very existence of the band is at stake. Though they graduate in March, the Light Music Club first has to survive the month of November. YuiAzu, comments are appreciated.





	1. November!

Yui Hirasawa couldn’t sleep. She had been trying to fall asleep for what felt like hours, wrapped in blankets under the silent darkness of her home, but the events earlier in the day wouldn’t stop racing through her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself, standing on stage with the rest of Ho-kago Tea Time, giving their final performance to a packed auditorium filled with cheering fans. With the lack of stimulation her room provided, it was too easy to hear the sounds of her bandmates like they were right next to her once more.

Ritsu’s drumming provided the necessary baseline for their performance. While the eager girl normally got excited and rushed too quickly through her parts, today she had kept perfect time with everyone. Tsumugi’s nimble fingers danced over the keyboard, her unique sound a perfect counterbalance to the guitars and bass in front of her. Whenever it felt like the song needed something extra, Tsumugi was there, filling in the gaps with the skill of a trained professional. Mio owned the bassline with her bass guitar, smiling and playing with all the confidence she was unable to muster off the stage. Yui smiled to herself, recalling the feeling of her and Mio’s voices harmonizing as they sang their first song, Fuwa Fuwa Time, together. Despite their differences, when they both sang, Yui only ever heard one voice. Yui herself stood fearlessly at the front of the group, playing her guitar Giita and singing with everything she had. There was no longer a need to worry about forgetting lyrics or notes for the band’s songs. Every movement had become tightly tied to who she was, a part of her that refused to be ignored. Playing and singing for HTT was as natural as breathing, and Yui loved it. Rounding out their band was Azusa, playing the rhythm guitar part with the serious, yet content look on her face that she reserved for performances. Yui’s thoughts stuttered when Azusa popped into her mind.

_Azu-nyan… _

Time advanced, and Yui was remembering waking up earlier that evening, having fallen asleep next to her friends in the Light Music Club's clubroom following their performance. It had been there that reality had caught up to the five of them, that the wonderful flower they had worked so hard to grow and cultivate was beginning to wilt. The tears that stained Yui’s cheeks in those moments threated to spill out once more in the present, but the senior held back. If she started crying now, she’d only upset her sister Ui. The real reason her mind had flashed forwards was Azusa.

Out of the five of them, Azusa was the only one who hadn’t started crying as the truth bared its fangs. Yui hadn’t thought much of it in the moment, with her own concerns distracting her, but it struck her as wildly out of place now. Worse still, when she had woken up first after the five of them had fallen asleep together in their clubroom, she had noticed clear tear stains on Azusa’s sleeping face. The younger girl had quickly wiped them away when she woke up. The senior kicked herself for not putting the pieces together in the moment.

_Why did you try to hide your tears, Azu-nyan? I wish you’d open up a bit more to the rest of us. To me._

Yui’s affection for her kouhai was no secret, least of all to Azusa. Despite the younger girl’s resistance to Yui’s advances on the surface, the bond between them was just as tight as it was with the other girls, if not tighter. Something about Azusa made Yui feel different, and while she couldn’t describe it with her own words, the fact that Azusa felt the need to hide her sadness from Yui ate away at her almost as badly as it did when something was upsetting Ui.

The phone on Yui’s night stand started vibrating angrily, causing the girl’s eyes to snap open and remind her that she was being a hypocrite. She checked the name on the blindingly bright screen to confirm that it was her parents again before placing the phone back on the night stand. The insistent vibrations sputtered and died out, adding another missed call to the growing pile. Yui wasn’t in the mood to talk to her parents, a decision she’d probably pay for when they stopped by the house in a few weeks, but she had good reason to ignore them. For all they knew, she was asleep.

_I guess we’re both hiding things Azu-nyan, ne?_

A frustrated sigh escaped Yui’s lips. Things used to be simple, just as the name Light Music Club implied. She closed her eyes again, reaching out for the sounds of her band. Though the music returned, it was distinctly fainter. The more Yui tried to focus on it, the more elusive it became. Soon, the only thing Yui could hear was her own guitar, aimlessly wandering around with its playing. Her song was grasping, searching desperately for the four missing parts that it needed to complete itself, but nothing answered. Anxiety crept up on the brown-haired girl, and she bit back the urge to call out for her friends. She settled for pulling the covers of her bed more tightly around herself, shivering despite the room’s warmth.

_Calm down, Yui. You’ll see them tomorrow. They aren’t gone. Everything will be just like normal, you’ll see. Ui said so. _

Mercifully, Yui could feel herself beginning to drift off into sleep. However worried she was, the day’s stimulations and their repetition in her head had worn her down. Yui almost chuckled to herself. Overthinking things like this wasn’t like her. There was only one absolute truth Yui chose to focus on as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

_We’ll stay together. Even if it’s only for a little while longer…_

* * *

**November 1st , 2009, 9 Days Later**

The door to the clubroom gave way solemnly. Azusa Nakano stepped into the sunlit room, her halfhearted paces barely even disturbing the suffocating calm as it enveloped her. Only when the 2nd-year placed her guitar case on the wooden ground with a gentle thud did the abnormal quiet catch up to her. The girl blinked, downcast eyes taking in her surroundings for the first time that day. She was the first person there. That was unusual. She was used to her senpais assembling and slacking off long before she ever set foot in the clubroom every day after school. The promise of Tsumugi’s tea and desserts seemed to motivate some members to arrive early more than playing music ever did. Azusa sighed. _I might have to get used to this. _

Like a wild haymaker, the idea struck the girl at a blind spot in her memory, sending her mind reeling. _Shut up shut up shut up, brain. It’s November now. November! _She reasoned with herself furiously, denying her wayward thought with all mental ability available to her.

Seeking distraction, she practically sprinted over to feed the Light Music Club’s pet turtle, Ton, all while fighting to ignore the thoughts in her head. _They’re leaving soon. That culture festival performance was our last concert. I’m going to be alone. I’ll never see them again. _

Every flake of food in Ton’s tank seemed to drag another unpleasant thought to the surface. Azusa frowned. She had to be thinking about this the wrong way. She’d certainly see the others again, even after they went to college. There was no way Yui would leave her alone for such a long time, no matter how much she wanted her to. No sooner was the cap on Ton’s food dispenser returned than the clubroom doors burst open, revealing the ecstatic Yui Hirasawa in question. “Hello, November clubroom!!” the brown-haired girl announced dramatically, taking in the room with a 360-degree spin like she hadn’t seen it almost every day for the past three years.

Behind the cheerful lead guitarist of their band, the other 3 club members filed in calmly. Childhood friends Mio Akiyama and Ritsu Tainaka were lost in discussion about the day’s classes, while Tsumugi Kotobuki moved gracefully past them and the still spinning Yui. With a friendly nod to Azusa, the blonde heiress retreated to the back of the room to prepare the afternoon’s tea. Azusa greeted her senpais courteously, which caught Yui’s wildly roving attention. “Azu-nyan!” She exclaimed, rushing towards the smaller girl, arms wide open. “You beat us here!”

Though Yui’s charge was devastatingly swift, Azusa was more than prepared for the challenge. Acting on years of muscle memory, Azusa dodged right out of the way at the last possible moment, leaving Yui to stumble forwards and swerve violently into a seated position at her spot at the club’s dining table, made of four desks. The girl took no notice of her new position, all of her focus devoted to giving Azusa a genuinely hurt stare. “Azu-nyan hates me…” she muttered, holding back a sniffle of despair.

Mio rolled her eyes while Ritsu chuckled. “Yui-chan, nobody enjoys getting tackled, no matter how much affection you put behind it,” the dark-haired bassist explained for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah,” Ritsu chimed in. “You need to make sure to do it when she isn’t expecting it,” the club president explained with a devilish smirk.

Yui’s eyes widened in rare understanding, much to Azusa’s chagrin, while Mio smacked Ritsu on the back of the head for her comment. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she scolded before turning to face Azusa and smiling apologetically. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Sawako-sensei wanted to talk to us about our college applications again. Were you here long?”

Azusa ignored the tightening in her chest that came with hearing the band’s future mentioned. “No, I just got here myself,” she responded simply. “Are we going to pract-”

“Mugiiii,” Yui whined from behind Azusa, interrupting her. “How long until the tea is ready?”

All the energy the girl exuded not one minute ago had completely abandoned her. If a deflated balloon could take a human form, Azusa was looking at it. It would have been cute, if it wasn’t somewhat pathetic. “Just a few minutes!” came Tsumugi’s voice from the far side of the clubroom. “It’ll be ready before you know it!”

With Tsumugi’s promise in mind, Yui held herself back from completely falling apart while the other members took their respective seats at the table, Ritsu seated between Yui and Azusa with Mio across from her. While light conversation was made and Azusa forced herself not to think about her troubles, the club’s advisor and teacher to the 4 seniors, Sawako Yamanaka, joined them. Ritsu was mostly interested in bragging about their performance at the cultural festival, a topic that had frequently dominated their conversation. Even this idle chatter faded away, however, when Tsumugi appeared with cupcakes and hot tea for everyone.

Azusa drank from her unique cat-shaped mug, the tea as fulfilling as any other day. Life slowly seeped back into Yui as she filled herself with tea and cupcake power. Ritsu devoured a cupcake and reached for another when she thought nobody was looking. Mio and Tsumugi drank serenely, enjoying each sip with far more reverence than Azusa had ever been able to show for her food. Sawako simply seemed grateful for the break from her job, nibbling on a cupcake absentmindedly without acknowledging anyone.

An inward sigh echoed in Azusa’s mind. It didn’t look like Ho-kago Tea Time would be practicing today either, or any time soon. While the thought disappointed her, it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the silence that had snuck up on the table.

_It’s happening again._

Ever since the festival, something malicious had taken hold of the group. Azusa looked around. Everyone appeared to be focused on what was left on their plates rather than each other, the relaxed atmosphere of the group’s arrival shattered. Days of bubbly conversation over Tsumugi’s sweets or rare practices where the group managed to perform in sync for a brilliant moment of perfect understanding between players had disappeared. Their dazzling performance in the cultural festival a week or so ago had evidently drained something vital from the group. At first, Azusa had written it off as a passing issue, lingering sadness over the bitter reality that was the impending end of the school year. When air-headed Yui started to be affected, however, Azusa realized that the problem wasn’t just going to go away. The days would start normally, but by the time everyone finished their tea and snacks, it was as if they had forgotten why they came to the clubroom in the first place. Eventually, everyone just sort of decided to go home rather than sit in awkward silence, and that had been the club’s life since the festival.

The only person not looking down or away besides Azusa was Sawako, who had taken up a contemplative stare that swept with clearly forced control over the five club members. When the two made eye contact, Azusa looked away quickly. She couldn’t bring herself to meet the intense gaze of the teacher. As the quiet stretched into nearly unbearable territory, Azusa mentally prepared herself to try breaking the silence. She knew her band mates had to deal with everyone going their separate ways next year too. The idea of bringing up her concerns was daunting, but even the worst reprimand for letting her emotions out haphazardly like this was better than the silence they were enduring. Just as she was about to speak, a familiar interruption stopped her. “Your cupcakes are delicious, Mugi-chan!” Yui praised wholeheartedly.

Tsumugi started, as if coming out of a trance. She recovered rapidly and smiled gratefully at Yui. “Thank you, Yui-chan. I have a few extras if you’re still hungry.” Knowing what Yui’s response would be, Tsumugi moved to retrieve more treats from her bag, allowing her blush at the praise to be hidden.

Yui’s shining eyes tracked Tsumugi’s movements with a hawk’s precision while Azusa watched on. When Tsumugi revealed another set of cupcakes, Yui squealed with such innocent joy that even Mio couldn’t keep a small grin off her face. Azusa could feel a soft smile slinking onto her own countenance, despite herself.

_At least one of us seems to be able to conduct business as usual. Yui-senpai always seems to know what to say. I should just leave these things to her. _

The rest of the day passed like a dream. Azusa could recall an argument between Ritsu and Yui over the merits of cupcakes versus cake, as well as Sawako berating Tsumugi for some incident involving passing notes that had occurred during classes that day, but that was all that stood out. _Perhaps I’m overreacting, _she posited to herself as she retrieved her untouched guitar. _We’re still just a little sad that the cultural festival is over. There’s a bunch of months before graduation. We’ll be practicing again when I least expect it. We always pull through when it counts, somehow. I have to believe in my senpais._

Thoughts of reassurance gave Azusa the determination to push aside her concerns for the day. She followed her retreating club mates, too lost in her own thoughts to notice that Sawako had stayed behind. The teacher watched her students as they left the clubroom, chatting about nothing after accomplishing nothing. _That’s par for the course for them though, _her logical side pointed out. _They probably didn’t even notice something was wrong. Well, Azusa’s definitely noticed. And Yui’s known since the festival ended. I suppose I’ll give the others another day or two to catch up. _

The teacher closed the room’s windows for the night. She had known for a while that this would happen. “I’ve been there before,” she whispered in confidence to the slowly dying sunlight. “I know how much the thought of separation hurts.” She cast a glance to the empty chairs around an empty table, and smirked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you worry, girls,” Sawako declared proudly, her almost ominous tone filling the empty room.

With that announcement hanging unfinished in the air, Sawako strutted out the door, allowing silence to claim the clubroom once more.


	2. Practice!

**November 2nd, After School**

Once again, the clubroom was silent, though it wasn’t due to lack of occupancy. Four club members sat around a table idly, the change of date having done little to assuage their predicament. Mio flipped through a booklet with a famous musician on the cover aimlessly while Ritsu and Yui took turns watching for Tsumugi to come into the room and sleeping. Tsumugi, according to Mio, had something she needed to take care of before coming to the clubroom, but she wouldn’t elaborate for reasons Azusa couldn’t fathom. Azusa, having completed her turtle-feeding duties, was unable to find a suitable target for her attention, and her mind wandered as she stared at nothing from her seat.

_I need to buy more food for Ton-chan. I wonder if that can come out of the club’s budget. Do we have a budget? Mugi-senpai buys almost everything we need. Maybe I’ll get her to come with me… When did silence get this difficult to deal with? It’s quiet in here sometimes, like when nobody is here, or when Yui-senpai and Ritsu-senpai aren’t here. Dang it, a club with music in its name isn’t supposed to be like this! Ritsu-senpai and Yui-senpai have the energy of half a person, Mio-senpai won’t even look at anyone, and Mugi-senpai just disappeared? _

“What is wrong with us?!”

A painstaking moment gave Azusa plenty of time to realize that she had voiced her last thought out loud. Yui snapped to attention at the sudden noise, wide eyes focusing on the source of her interrupted rest. Mio closed her reading slowly and gave Azusa a confused look. “Is something the matter, Azusa?” she asked, a trace of concern in her tone.

Taking back her statement was an incredibly tempting idea to Azusa. It wouldn’t even be hard. Just yesterday, she had told herself that they’d get over this funk any day now. Why should she rock the boat? “Yes, there is,” the younger girl asserted with bold confidence.

The look Mio gave Azusa indicated that she was waiting for some elaboration, but not even Azusa was sure what she wanted to say anymore. She could feel a bead of sweat drip down her brow as Yui and Ritsu also gave their junior their full attention. _What am I even saying? I can’t just bring this kind of thing up in front of everyone! What if I’m wrong? _

Yui tilted her head, her hands playing with each other nervously. “Azu-nyan, are you angry with us again?” she asked bluntly. “Are you still mad with me about yesterday? I’m sorry if you are.”

Azusa blinked. An apology from Yui about her cuddling habits that she didn’t even ask for was the last thing she expected. “Huh? No, of course not!” she reaffirmed quickly, once her mouth caught up to her brain. “I just… well…”

The brown-haired guitarist broke out into a large grin at Azusa’s response. “That’s great!” she exclaimed, reaching out to pat the girl on the head.

Azusa calmly used one of her hands to hold back her senpai while Ritsu picked up the conversation. “So, what’s actually on your mind, Nakano?” the drummer asked.

The guitarist took her time responding. If she was going to go through with this, she needed to explain herself properly. “I guess, well, I mean… we just… just haven’t been the same since the cultural festival performance! I just want us to act the way we normally do! …That’s all.” Azusa could feel her face going red as she allowed her concerns to tumble out, the pent-up worry over the past days releasing itself into the atmosphere all at once.

Yui paused in her attempts to pet her bandmate. “We’re not being normal?” she polled the room.

“We were never a normal club,” Mio responded with a sigh. “But that’s not what you’re talking about, right Azusa-chan?”

Azusa nodded, but before she could go on, the clubroom door opened. Tsumugi strode into the room, her expression unreadable. “What’s up, Mugi?” Ritsu greeted casually.

Tsumugi didn’t respond, instead choosing to make her way over to stand behind Sawako’s seat at one head of the table. Azusa’s outburst was neatly forgotten by everyone in favor of watching Tsumugi’s strained movements. When the blonde girl was certain she had everyone’s attention, she bowed deeply, a blush of embarrassment reddening her cheeks. “I’m sorry everyone! I tried; I really did, I promise!” she apologized profusely.

“So, you couldn’t get it?” Mio asked, the only person in the room who seemed to have any idea what was going on.

When Tsumugi only nodded guiltily, Ritsu decided to step in. “Wait, hold on, what are we talking about here? What happened, Mugi?” She interrogated, standing up from her chair in concern.

“I… I ran out of tea,” Tsumugi whispered, barely audibly. “I forgot to bring more today, but I promise I’ll bring more tomo-“

“Nooooooooooooo…” Yui interrupted Tsumugi’s explanation with a low wail, a melancholy tone that even widowed wives would have difficulty matching.

The wail had an immediate effect on Tsumugi, who appeared to be close to tears over her failure. Mio closed her eyes and sighed. “Azusa-chan, can you calm her down?” she asked, trying to prevent irritation from creeping into her tone.

Azusa stared incredulously at Mio, and was about to protest, but a harsh look from black-haired bassist shut down any argument she could think of. She looked to her grief-stricken senpai and sighed in pity. “You’re such a child, you know that?” she rhetorically asked, reaching over to pat Yui a few times on the head.

Like a spell being broken, the whining ceased, and Yui allowed her head to rest on her desk, a content smile on her face. Removing her hand, Azusa considered telling her to sit up and listen to the group’s discussion, but decided against disturbing the peace she had just created. With the matter settled, she returned her attention to the conversation that had carried on without her. “- not a big deal, Mugi,” Ritsu finished reassuring her band mate. “You already do so much for us that we’d have to be crazy to complain about one day without tea or desserts, right Yui?” As Ritsu spoke, her stomach growled, but she pretended not to notice.

Despite her position on her desk, Yui nodded and gave Tsumugi a big thumbs up with a smile before going back to her impromptu nap. Tsumugi sniffled, Ritsu’s words having reached her. “Thanks, you guys. Perhaps we should practice today, if we’re not going to have tea?” she suggested, recovering rapidly.

Ritsu’s reassuring smile flipped around, and she frantically waved a hand towards Yui. “Well, I don’t know, I don’t think some of our members will have the energy to-”

Before Ritsu could even finish her sentence, Yui had blown past everyone to retrieve her guitar, and was slinging it over her shoulder. “What are you all waiting for? It’s been forever since we’ve played!” she invited them over with a wave.

Sensing defeat as her stalwart ally in laziness abandoned her, Ritsu reluctantly got out of her seat to begin prepping her drum set. Tsumugi followed shortly after to set up her keyboard. Mio gave Azusa a reassuring smile before standing to attend to her bass guitar. Azusa herself was a bit dumbfounded. _All it took to get them to practice was running out of tea? _Question after question fired away in her mind as she prepared her own guitar.

With everyone set up, the most enthusiastic member took the lead. “Let’s play a song!” Yui insisted.

“Then which one should we play?” Tsumugi asked, pressing a few random keys on her keyboard idly.

“If we’re ignoring warming up, it should be something we’re familiar with, like Fuwa Fuwa Time,” Mio suggested, the idea of skipping such a task clearly making her uncomfortable. “But we really should just practice a bit before jumping into a song, don’t you think?” she urged.

Ritsu developed a Cheshire grin. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it! Let’s do this!” All of the lethargy she had been displaying had melted away once she sat down at her drum set. “1, 2, 3, 4!”

With her sudden command, the others barely had enough time to grip their instruments properly before the song had started. Azusa struggled through the first few measures as she tried to get a grip on her playing, but eventually, habit and muscle memory took over. Her bandmates went through similar tribulations as a result of Ritsu’s sudden start, but everyone seemed to at least be on the same page by the time the singing began. The sound of Ho-kago Tea Time’s first song filled the clubroom with more life than it had seen in over a week. Azusa felt a smile play at her lips as her fingers made the guitar’s strings dance. She could feel the power of her senpais and their instruments enveloping her as she let the voice of her guitar ring out to join them. The song all five girls had memorized in their hearts poured out from their souls, in the special form of synchronization that had swept Azusa away when she had first heard it years ago. Even as a part of the song’s force, it was impossible not to feel the effects of the music that the bond between the girls created. There was a specific sound of trust between every player as they slipped in and out of focus with each note, danced around vocals and instrumentals in a way that could never be truly recreated and perfected in practice. In short, it was the pulse of the band, and what made Ho-kago Tea Time and its members so important to Azusa.

This was the feeling Azusa was searching for as they began to play Fuwa Fuwa Time. She reached out with the voice of her guitar, straining to feel the comfort of her band’s confident sounds as they joined her in song. Instead, she heard echoes. Their cohesive unit had split into five groups. Each note was a question rather than a declaration. No individual piece was played incorrectly, but instead of sounding like HTT, they sounded like five musicians who happened to be playing the same piece at the same time. The fears plaguing Azusa began to well up within her again. _There’s no denying it now, _she thought as the song was drawn to an unceremonious conclusion.

One look at her bandmates was enough for everyone, even Yui, to tell that they were all thinking similar things. Mio and Yui snuck glances at Azusa, no doubt recalling her earlier comment, but neither voiced their thoughts. As they stood there, panting slightly from the exertion, Azusa decided it was her turn to break the silence. “Perhaps we should have warmed up,” she suggested, her attempt at humor doing little to lighten the mood.

The rest of the band’s practice saw little improvement, even after they took a break to properly warm up. By the time club activities ended, they had played a fair amount of their song roster with little change in their cohesiveness. Azusa was at a loss as to what to do as they packed their things for the day. She had given every song her all, but it was like her closest friends had become strangers to her overnight. It made her want to cry, but she held herself together long enough for everyone to go their separate ways. Only after she was certain she was alone, walking down the chilly empty sidewalk towards her home, did she allow a tear to slip from her cheek. As soon as she noticed it, she wiped it away, her walking pace unconsciously speeding up. Her guitar weighed unnaturally heavily on her back as she pushed herself forward ever faster, if for no other reason than to get away from the performance she had left behind. One thought held fast in her mind as she made her way home on November 2nd. _I can’t let things go on like this. I have to do something. _


	3. Sawako!

**November 3rd, After School Tea Time**

The clubroom’s door exploded open, heavily startling the 5 girls already in the middle of teatime. Ritsu spit out the sip of tea she had been having, much to the dismay of Mio, who was sitting directly in the line of fire. “Ahhh! Damn it Ritsu!” she cried out in a mix of disgust and anger, frantically jumping from her seat to find something to wipe her face with.

Tsumugi reacted immediately, hopping up to retrieve a towel from the pile of materials she had brought to ensure she never ran out of tea supplies again. Ritsu muttered what could be considered an apology, coming from her, while Tsumugi attempted to dry Mio off. The black-haired girl in question was distracted with muttering all manner of curses towards her childhood friend.

Yui and Azusa exchanged a look as they observed the series of events in front of them. Yui’s eyes were shining with some sort of anticipation that Azusa couldn’t comprehend. She tilted her head at her senpai, who gave her a toothy grin and pointed at the source of their commotion giddily. With none of her wordless questions answered, she turned her attention to Sawako, still standing in the entrance to the clubroom, murderous intent in her glare. There was something clearly wrong with Sawako today, aside from her disregard for the health of their door. Her hair, normally neatly combed and parted, had been allowed to hang loosely in front of her face. Her hands were clenched in tight fists, and it took everything Azusa had not to scoot her chair away from the aura the teacher was giving off. _It’s like she’s totally given in to her Death Devil persona… _she mused to herself.

“Hello, Sawa-chan-sensei!” Yui greeted jovially.

Azusa nearly gave herself whiplash turning back to face Yui again. If the girl noticed that her teacher looked like she was ready to incinerate all of them with a look where they sat, she clearly didn’t care. “Senpai, I don’t-” Azusa tried to warn the senior before the loud clicking of heels caught her attention.

Sawako abandoned her stationary position in the doorway and made her way to the table. Every step sent a wave of discomfort through Azusa. She knew Sawako had a wild, rebellious streak hidden behind her calm and understanding demeanor from her high school days as a metal band guitarist, but now, she just felt malicious disregard for everything coming off of the teacher. Mio finished drying her face just in time to notice that Sawako had arrived in front of her chair and was staring down her students. She visibly shivered, practically shrinking behind Tsumugi, who wasn’t reacting much better to their teacher’s disturbing new presence. Ritsu tugged on her collar nervously. “Um, hey, Sawa-chan, what’s goin-”

“Shut up,” the teacher interrupted harshly. “Now, I have an announcement that you ALL need to hear. Get back to your seats, you two,” she ordered at the two girls not seated.

Yui nibbled blissfully on sweets while Mio and Tsumugi returned to their chairs like children who knew they had been caught doing something wrong. Azusa wanted to yell at Yui for her inability to read the room, but Sawako’s gorgon gaze paralyzed her. _How can Yui-senpai remain so calm in a situation like this?! _

With everyone seated once more, Sawako reached into her pocket and slammed something down on the table, jostling the tea cups and forcing everyone to secure their drinks, lest they meet the same fate as Mio. As the teacher removed her hand, 5 slightly crumpled blank notecards and small pencils were revealed. She stared down the girls expectantly. Yui plucked up a notecard and pencil like it was the most natural thing Sawako could have done. With some hesitation, the others followed Yui’s lead. When everyone was equipped, Sawako continued. “It’s come to my attention that there’s been a problem with the club’s behavior for some time now, and as your advisor, I’ve taken it upon myself to fix it,” she announced proudly. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Numerous problems with whatever Sawako’s idea of problem solving in this scenario could be came up for Azusa, but she had even more problems with being the one to voice such concerns. Evidently, everyone else seemed to be in a similar situation to her. With no objections, Sawako smirked devilishly. “Excellent. Then, I want each of you to write down something you want to do with the club before the year ends. Don’t worry about the semantics, just write down anything you think you still need to do before graduation.” She pulled out her chair and sat down, a silent command for the girls to begin.

Azusa was at a loss. She had been preparing herself to get yelled at for something she didn’t know she did, and now she felt like she was being given a pop quiz. The only person who immediately began writing was Yui, which didn’t even surprise Azusa anymore. She looked at her card, then at the others, who were either lost in thought or staring at their teacher, befuddled. The harsh demeanor the woman had brought into the room seemed to have vanished as she sipped on the cup of tea Tsumugi had prepared in anticipation of her arrival. Were it not for the cards, Azusa could have mistaken the atmosphere as normal for the club’s last few days. Mio raised her hand to get Sawako’s attention. “Sawako-sensei, what do you mean by-”

“No talking,” Sawako answered abruptly, shutting Mio down.

It was clear that Mio only had more questions after that response, but she held her tongue and began to write on her card. Azusa decided to play along, at least until she knew where her advisor was going with her tangent. Yui began to hum to herself as she wrote, which Sawako miraculously ignored. The blank card in front of Azusa asked her the same question the person who gave it to her asked: _What do I want our club to do before the year ends? _

A few minutes later, everyone had written down a response. Sawako casually looked up from her tea and nodded in approval. “Good. Now, go home. You’re dismissed for the day,” she instructed, waving the five girls off nonchalantly.

The order finally pushed Ritsu’s curiosity to be more powerful than her fear of Sawako’s wrath. “Hold on, what are you talking about, Sawa-chan? What was the point of these cards? Why are you mad at us?”

Sawako’s eyes darkened slightly at the barrage of questions. “Bring the cards with you tomorrow. Don’t show them to anyone. Hirasawa will tell me if you do. That is all.” She took another sip of tea.

Four pairs of eyes locked on to Yui. “You were in on this, Private?” Ritsu asked in disbelief.

Yui nodded happily, finishing off another sweet. “Sawa-chan praised me for my motivation today! She said I was doing a great job!” she boasted proudly.

The four pairs of eyes now turned back on Sawako, different levels of disbelief behind each one. “Are you feeling alright, Sawa-chan?” Ritsu questioned, failing to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Ask yourselves that question,” Sawako shot back hotly. “From what I’ve seen, Yui is the only one acting anywhere close to normal, and even she’s having trouble because of the mood you’ve all created for yourselves. I heard your practice yesterday. It sucked. Is this how you want to spend the rest of the year?” The teacher casually leaned back in her chair, scanning the room for a response.

The response she got was uncomfortable fidgeting and nervous glances being exchanged. Even Yui seemed to finally be affected by the situation, focusing her gaze on the floor. “No, it isn’t,” Mio eventually responded, everyone turning their attention to her. “Azusa-chan said the same thing yesterday; There’s something wrong with us right now, and we need to do something about it.”

Silence greeted Mio’s claim. One by one, however, the other girls nodded or voiced their approval of Mio’s statement. Mio’s normally reserved eyes shown with a determination that had been absent for too long. Sawako visibly relaxed and gave the group her first genuinely warm smile of the day. “If that’s how you all feel, then please do as I say. Wait for me when you get to the clubroom tomorrow, and we’ll take care of this issue. Can you do that for me?” The professional side of Sawako that Azusa was more familiar with had returned.

Mio pocketed her card, stood up and nodded to Sawako. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Sawako-sensei,” she spoke formally, before moving to gather her things.

Following Mio’s lead, the other girls retrieved their own instruments and bags. Tsumugi began to clean up the table with Azusa’s assistance, but Sawako waved them off, insisting that she would take care of it as an apology for kicking them out without notice. Before Azusa had really fully processed everything that was happening, she and the others were on the way home, the sun still far higher in the sky than she was used to. The group held onto an unspoken silence until they were well off school grounds, the weight of Sawako’s mission weighing heavily on four of them. The fifth one only saw an opportunity. “So, Mio, what did you write?” Ritsu asked suddenly, prompting a gasp from Yui.

The brown-haired guitarist held up a hand as if to order Ritsu to halt. “Sawa-chan-sensei said to-”

“I know what she said, Yui,” Ritsu cut off her friend. “Buuut, I’m much more interested in what sort of aching desires are burning within our resident bassist as opposed to whatever Sawako thinks she’s doing. So, how about it, Mio?”

Mio frowned at her friend. “Ritsu, we should take Sawako-sensei’s advice seriously. She’s trying to help us.”

Ritsu sighed, speeding up to walk backwards in front of everyone. “Help us with what? Last time I checked, we’re fine. Come on, what’s the harm in it?”

Tsumugi tilted her head. “You agreed with Mio-chan when she said that you wanted to change how we spend the rest of the year, didn’t you?”

The drummer waved Tsumugi’s point off. “Details, details. I just didn’t want that crazy teacher to keep yapping at us. Come on, I’ll tell you all mine if I can hear yours. What’s the harm in it, Mio?” She insisted, leaning in closer to her friend to goad her on.

Mio stopped walking and folded her arms. “This is important, Ritsu. Can you please just wait until tomorrow? I… want to do something. About this.” Her voice died out as she spoke, and she looked down at her shoes, shyness taking over.

Ritsu stopped walking, studying what she could see of Mio’s face carefully. Several emotions brushed over her as the other three girls watched the interaction curiously. Finally, Ritsu gave Mio a small smirk. “Fine, if it’s that important to you, I guess it can wait until tomorrow. But you better spill the beans, you got that?” she demanded. “I’m not going to put myself through this and not get something juicy out of it.”

Mio’s eyes lit up, and she nodded gratefully to her friend. “Thanks, Ritsu,” she responded simply, ignoring the intent behind her friend’s words.

“Yeah, whatever.” The drummer turned and resumed walking forwards, preventing anyone from seeing her face.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, and eventually, Azusa found herself walking the final stretch of the journey alone with Yui, as was their routine. The younger girl couldn’t help but keep glancing at her carefree senpai, who had apparently known more about what was going on than anyone else. _So, when she asked if we were not normal yesterday, that was an act? No, Yui-senpai’s a terrible actor. Sawako-sensei must have approached her sometime earlier today. Besides, Yui-senpai’s the only one of us who’s fine. At least now it seems I was right, at least about the others, if Sawako-sensei felt the need to step in. …Why am I not happy about that? Can she really help us? _

“Hey, Azu-nyan?” Yui asked without looking at Azusa.

“Yes, senpai?” Azusa responded, still somewhat absorbed by her musings.

“What did you write on your card?”

Azusa deadpanned. “Is that question some sort of trick?” she asked incredulously.

Yui gave a glance to her companion and shook her head. “Why would it be a trick?” she responded innocently.

It took most of Azusa’s willpower not to berate Yui with everything she had. “Because you yourself told us you were going to make sure we didn’t share what we wrote down for Sawako-sensei,” the black-haired girl explained patiently. “Geez, did you forget already?”

There was another shake of Yui’s head. “No, but I’m the only other one here. As long as nobody else finds out that we told each other, there’s no way Sawa-chan-sensei can find out!” Yui appeared to be astounded by her own brilliance, arms swaying back and forth in excited pride.

The younger girl considered her options. _If she’s not going to report to Sawako-sensei about it, then I suppose it doesn’t matter. On the other hand… _ “Do you know why Sawako-sensei told us to write these cards?” she interrogated.

“Nope!” Yui answered. “She said it was a surprise.”

Her suspicions confirmed, Azusa waved Yui off. “Then I shouldn’t tell you. If we’re going to the trouble of listening to Sawako-sensei’s request, we shouldn’t ruin it by revealing our cards to each other,” she reasoned. “We can’t all just be as cheerful as we want like you, Yui-senpai. Some of us are worried about our band’s future.”

Yui looked down, her mood suddenly soured. Azusa felt a twinge of guilt, but she shoved it down. Yui was Yui, after all. She’d break into tears over not getting enough tea. _This is for the best. It’s for the band’s future. _

The two girls continued to walk in silence, Yui never actually responding to Azusa’s denial. When they reached the crosswalk where they separated, Yui faced her junior one more time. To Azusa’s shock, she couldn’t read Yui’s expression. Despite Yui’s carefree nature, Azusa had gotten used to being able to tell when her fellow guitarist was upset over even mundane issues, with plenty of pouting being a decent giveaway. This was different. Whatever emotion was running though Yui’s head, Azusa couldn’t identify it, and the thought unnerved her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Azusa,” Yui spoke softly, giving the girl a half-hearted wave as she went her own way.

Hearing Yui say her name properly felt so fundamentally wrong to Azusa that she wanted to chase after her as she disappeared from the girl’s vision. She remained rooted to her spot at the crosswalk, however, thinking the situation over. Eventually, she decided to let it go for the day. “She’ll be perfectly fine by tomorrow,” she told herself as she started walking towards her own home.

_Yui-senpai is Yui-senpai. She’s probably just pouting that I wouldn’t tell her what I wrote, even if it’s something this simple. _Even as she reassured herself, Azusa couldn’t help but worry that she had somehow made a mistake. _No, that can’t be right. Stop worrying about it, Azusa. _Marching orders issues, Azusa completed her trek home, all the while fighting off the nagging feeling she shouldn’t have allowed her senpai to walk away without her.


	4. Goals!

**November 4th, Lunchtime**

Azusa stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn. Something about classes today had made them particularly difficult to get through. At least lunchtime had arrived, inviting her in for a brief respite from her struggles in academia. Perhaps it was the weight of the card in Azusa’s pocket that distracted her as she absentmindedly put away her notes from the previous class; or perhaps the material they were going over was just more difficult than usual. Exams were always looming over them, too. None of those reasons sat right with the pigtailed girl, though. Even her concerns over the band didn’t strike her as the source behind her troubled mind. No, what really bothered Azusa during classes, and even now, was the feeling that she was being watched.

It was completely ridiculous, but Azusa couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was keeping an eye on her, the feeling of dangerous bloodlust closing in sending a shiver up her spine. Her classmates didn’t appear to notice anything out of the ordinary, and neither did Azusa’s rational side. Despite this, the sinking feeling of malicious observation hung over her like an invisible cross for her to bear. The girl shook her head and slapped her cheeks lightly a few times. “Wake up, Azusa,” she whispered to herself, willing her irrational concerns away to focus on the real issues bothering her.

As she sat down and reached for her lunch, she felt a tap on the shoulder. Looking up, she saw her classmate and Yui’s sister, Ui Hirasawa, standing over her, smiling warmly. “Hey, Azusa-chan, would you like to eat lunch with me today?” she asked cordially.

To Azusa, Ui was similar to Yui only in appearance, however strikingly similar the two were in that department. Ui was as sharp as the brightest students in their grade and was one of the most composed, mature people Azusa knew. She was also more devoted to Yui and her wellbeing than most parents were to their children. What Yui did to earn a sister like Ui was one of life’s great mysteries to Azusa.

The black-haired girl smiled, forcing her concerns down for the moment. “Ui-chan, you don’t need to ask for my permission to eat lunch with you anymore. We’re friends, right?” she asked rhetorically, inwardly pleased by the display of courtesy her senpais would forgo all too often.

Ui’s easy smile brightened considerably. “Of course! I suppose what I meant to ask was if you would mind eating with me alone, today. I’d like to speak with you…privately. It’s important.” Though her expression didn’t change, Ui’s tone didn’t invite much argument, rather urgency.

Curiosity sparked in Azusa, in spite of her conscious. _If Ui-chan feels the need to get something off her chest, it must be something big. Or something about Yui-senpai. Or both._

“Well, I suppose we can use the clubroom, so long as my senpais or Sawako-sensei aren’t using it at the moment,” Azusa responded, half to herself, before realizing something. “Oh, but what about Jun-chan? Won’t she feel left out if we go wandering off somewhere?” she scanned the room for their mutual friend.

Ui shook her head, a little too quickly. “Jun-chan said she had some homework to finish, so it’s just us today.” The younger Hirasawa shifted from foot to foot, her demeanor giving way to just a bit of impatience.

Azusa couldn’t bear to watch Ui suffer any longer. She stood up out of her chair, snatching up her lunch as she did so. “Alright, then let’s go, while we still have time to eat.”

Jun watched as her two friends exited their classroom for the Light Music Club, Ui leaving her lunch behind. As the sole person besides Ui with knowledge of what was about to happen, she couldn’t help but feel an iota of guilt for allowing Ui’s will to be carried out. Then again, Ui’s 1000 yen and unnerving smile had put up an incredibly convincing argument. _Good luck, Azusa. You’re gonna need it._

As she opened the door to the clubroom cautiously, announcing her presence to what turned out to be nobody, the feeling of malicious intent bearing down on her struck Azusa once more. For a moment, Azusa wondered if she was really going crazy. She entered the clubroom, pondering if the change in location was somehow bothering her. When she turned to ask Ui if she had noticed anything, however, she froze. Ui’s expression hadn’t changed from anything but pleasant since they had started their walk, but the angry aura she gave off was unmistakable. If Azusa squinted, she could have mistaken the person standing in front of her for the Sawako of yesterday. The brown-haired girl closed the door slowly and deliberately, her body casually blocking the way out.

Sweat began to form on Azusa’s brow. Whoever was standing in front of her wasn’t the Ui she knew, that much was obvious. “Ui” finally allowed the smile to fall from her face, replacing it with an expressionless stare. “Tell me something, Azusa-chan,” she asked in an icily calm voice. “What did you do to make Onee-chan cry?”

The panic that had started building up in Azusa quickly morphed into confusion. “Wait, what are you talking about? I didn’t make Yui-senpai c- whoa!”

With speed Azusa had never witnessed from her peer, Ui had closed the gap between them and shoved her friend backward with a single palm. Though the force of the impact was minimal, the surprise sent Azusa stumbling backwards, falling into a sitting position on the couch in the middle of the room. Her lunch fell from her grip and tumbled out all over the floor, forgotten in the moment. As Azusa attempted to regain her bearings, Ui once again moved to stand directly in front of the guitarist. “Don’t lie to me please, Azusa-chan,” she ordered, maintaining the same cool tone, even with her face only inches from her friend’s face.

“Onee-chan came home in tears yesterday again. _Again. _One day last week was bad enough, but now it’s become a pattern. Worse, both times she came home like this, she refused to tell me what was wrong. So here I am. I’m not going to sit here while my sister suffers and twiddle my thumbs. Now, would you mind enlightening me as to what’s going on?” She tilted her head, asking a polite question her eyes demanded an answer to.

“Wait, what makes you think this is my fault?!” Azusa fired back, a bit of indignation welling up within her from being pushed around the past few days. She jabbed a finger towards the grey sky outside. “For all we know, she was crying about a sad looking cloud she saw on the way home!”

Ui nodded thoughtfully, taking Azusa’s spur of the moment claim incredibly seriously. “While it’s possible, I highly doubt that’s the case. There’s only two reasons Onee-chan wouldn’t tell me something that’s bothering her:” She held up two fingers an uncomfortable distance from Azusa. “1: she herself doesn’t know what’s bothering her, or, much less likely, 2: she thinks it will upset me if she tells me. That led me to you.”

Azusa blinked, still trying to process the best possible escape routes from the room in her mind, and whether she’d survive jumping out of a third story window. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Ui confirmed, mercifully leaning back a bit with her hands on her hips to give Azusa room to breathe. “Onee-chan wouldn’t tell me if she was upset because of something you did, because she knows it would upset me, as your friend.” The girl’s frozen posture broke down a little, as if she finally noticed what she was doing.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. I just want to know what’s bothering my sister.” Ui turned and sat in the space near Azusa on the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Whenever something’s upsetting her like this, I… tend to think irrationally.”

Escape left Azusa’s mind while she looked at her downtrodden friend. _Tend to think irrationally is a bit of an understatement, _Azusa thought privately to herself, her back still aching a bit from the unexpected impact. _Still, I suppose I’d be concerned too if the person I was that close to wasn’t telling me something that was eating at them. But this is Yui-senpai we’re talking about. The only thing eating at her is what kind of sweets Mugi-senpai will bring the next day. _

“Look, Ui-chan, I don’t know exactly what’s bothering Yui-senpai, but I can tell you that everyone in the band, myself included, hasn’t been themselves since the cultural festival. We’re, um, trying to do something about it, but I don’t see how that could make your sister cry like that, at least not seriously.” Azusa chose her words carefully, raking her mind for something that could make even Yui-senpai break down in a serious manner. The results were frustratingly sparse.

“It could be anything,” Ui admitted with a sigh. “She stopped talking to me for a full day once when I told her that I couldn’t skip my last year of middle school to go to high school with her.” Despite the description of the memory, Ui smiled nostalgically.

A bolt of recollection struck Azusa as she recalled her conversation with Yui yesterday. _Wait a minute… did what I said yesterday actually make Yui-senpai cry? No, there’s no way, right? It’s Yui-senpai. I’m making things up just to come to a conclusion. _As Azusa buried herself in her thoughts, she failed to notice Ui observing her.

When the brown-haired girl cleared her throat, Azusa jumped a little in place. “Let me ask a different question,” Ui proposed. “Do you care about Onee-chan and the others?”

“Absolutely,” Azusa answered immediately. “They’re all very dear to me. I… don’t know where I’d be without them.” The implications caused emotions that Azusa had been fighting against since the concert began to force their way to the surface, and she frantically fought to maintain control.

“I see,” Ui remarked carefully, her eyes still trained on her friend. “I imagine they feel the same way, don’t you think?”

Azusa fidgeted in her seat, dropping her gaze to the floor. _I wish I knew for certain. I used to be able to tell exactly what they were thinking. _She wanted to say that, but she couldn’t bring herself to give voice to her concerns.

When Azusa didn’t respond, Ui pressed onward. “I know my sister can be a bit of an airhead, but she cares a lot about you girls. Even just from watching, I can tell what you’ve created together with her is special.” There was no jealousy in Ui’s tone, only admiration. “I just want Onee-chan to be happy, you know?”

Azusa looked up at her friend, suspicious. “You’re saying she isn’t?”

“Not since that concert,” Ui confirmed, absolutely confidant. “I didn’t need her to come home in tears to notice that something was wrong, and I could only assume it had something to do with HTT.”

“I’m still not sure I follow you,” Azusa admitted. “Yui-senpai just isn’t the sort of person to let our problems keep her down the way you’re describing.”

Ui’s eyes flared for a moment, sending a shiver down Azusa’s sore spine. “You don’t know my sister very well if you really believe that.”

For some reason, Azusa felt like Ui had just shoved her again. She stood up angrily, prompting a tilt of the head from Ui. “You think just because you’re her sister you know everything? You don’t know anything about the Light Music Club! Where do you get off bringing me in here just to blame me for problems someone else doesn’t even have? I don’t have to- to…”

Azusa’s wild rant was cut short by the feeling of Ui patting her on the head. A familiar, uncontrollable sensation overcame her. The anger that had overcome her seemed to shake itself out with every tap. She knew she should probably stop Ui from doing something so obviously embarrassing, but her arms wouldn’t move. She felt like a small child being comforted by a parent that cared for her. Ui eventually finished, backing off with a smile. “I can’t believe that actually worked. I can see why Onee-chan took such a shine to you.”

Blushing in embarrassment, Azusa jabbed a finger at her friend’s face. “You will tell nobody about this,” she ordered, trying to look as authoritative as possible. It was bad enough that Yui practically assaulted her every other day, the last thing she needed was her sister following her example, or worse, someone she didn’t like trying to imitate them.

Ui giggled. “Of course. I can keep secrets too, you know.” Her face fell as her sentence ended, and she looked to the ground. “Look, Azusa-chan, I’m sorry. I messed this whole thing up. Maybe I am just being an overprotective younger sister.”

In spite of herself, Azusa couldn’t muster up any more indignation towards her peer. Not when she reminded her so much of her senpai, who was impossible to stay mad at for long periods of time. “Don’t worry about it. Your heart was in the right place,” Azusa reassured her friend. “As for Yui-senpai, if something’s wrong, I’ll find out about it. It’s the least I could do.”

Ui’s eyes shone. “You mean that? Thanks, Azusa-chan!” she exclaimed gratefully.

Azusa nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. _I can’t just ignore Ui-chan’s suspicions. I have to find out if what I said really affected Yui-senpai that badly. _

* * *

**November 4th, After School**

Azusa’s hand brushed over the metal turtle on the railing of the stairs leading to the clubroom. She had always wondered if her senpais had bought a turtle for the club because of the statue, its shell somewhat smoothed over by constant human contact. Whatever their reasoning, she had been grateful for their concern over her being lonely after they left, even though they had essentially given her and Tsumugi an additional chore to handle. Ascending the stairs for the second time that day, Ui’s words rang out in her head. She had been mulling over them ever since she had finished what was left of her lunch and what Ui had bought for her back in the classroom. Ui herself hadn’t said anything else to her for the rest of the day, but the feeling of being watched had disappeared.

The kouhai sighed. Despite the inappropriate method of delivery, Ui had made an effective point. _I can’t rely on Sawako-sensei to handle everything for us. If Yui-senpai is sad, or worse, if I hurt her somehow, I need to address the issue directly. It’s the absolute least I can do. I’d do it for the others in a heartbeat, and Yui-senpai is no exception._

She shook her head to herself. When she saw that Ui tomorrow, they were going to have words about using communication methods that were less aggressive. _Then again, Yui-senpai isn’t a big advocate of personal space either. Guess it runs in the family. _

Finally reaching the peak of the stairs, Azusa was somewhat surprised to see her senpais hanging around near the door. Ritsu was banging idly on the railing with her drumsticks while Mio and Tsumugi worked on some of their schoolwork. Yui sat in a corner next to the door, doing what Azusa could only assume was dozing, her head in her hands over her tucked in knees. Her scarf covered her head almost protectively, with the gloves she received from Ui for Christmas completing the barrier between the girl and the outside world. “Hey there, Nakano,” Ritsu greeted with a casual wave, causing the others to look up.

“Hello, senpais. Is something wrong with the clubroom?” Azusa responded, taking in the strange scene.

Mio frowned. “Sawako-sensei told us to wait for her before going into the clubroom. She wouldn’t explain why.” The order clearly bothered her, and Azusa couldn’t blame the bassist, given Sawako’s behavior yesterday.

Realizing that she would have to occupy her own time until the Sawako arrived, Azusa looked for something to do while everyone returned to their previous activities. Her wandering eyes eventually landed on Yui, who had returned to her original position after looking up to see Azusa’s arrival. Ritsu followed the junior’s gaze. “Don’t worry about her,” Ritsu reassured. “She just didn’t get enough sleep last night because she was too excited about Sawa-chan’s plan.”

As much as Azusa wanted to believe Ritsu, it was impossible after what she had heard from Ui. She took in a deep breath. _Alright, Azusa. Time to bite the bullet. It’s just Yui-senpai, your friend. Talk to her. You can do that, if nothing else. This isn’t just for you, it’s for Ui-chan, too. _As she tried to hype herself up, her feet made her decision for her, and the girl found herself sitting next to her fellow guitarist.

Yui looked up again, noticing that someone had sat next to her. When she made eye contact with Azusa, the younger girl thought she saw a bit of the expression she remembered from yesterday, but it was gone almost immediately. “Azu-nyan! How are you?” Yui asked sleepily, stifling a yawn around her cheerful grin.

The trepidation Azusa had felt was washed away by her senpai’s inviting smile. This had to be the Yui she knew. Simple, surface-level Yui. “I’m doing fine, Yui-senpai. Are you alright? You seem tired.”

Yui nodded, almost more to herself than Azusa. “I stayed up a bit too late, that’s all, ehehe.” Even as she spoke, she seemed to be drifting off into dreamland.

Doubts flickered back up in Azusa about Ui’s claims. She herself admitted that Yui’s moods were erratic. She opened her mouth to question her senpai further, only for the sound of clicking heels to interrupt her thoughts. Even Yui perked up as Sawako ascended the stairs before them. Five pairs of eyes tracked the teacher’s movement, looking for any indication of what version of Sawako they were dealing with. The subject of their attention gave them a knowing smirk. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Minutes later, everyone had gathered at the table. Sawako’s insistence that tea not be served had caused a minor revolt led by Captain Ritsu and Private Yui, coming out of sleepy retirement to voice her displeasure, but their cries were ignored. With all the girls seated, Sawako held out her hand expectantly. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Crumpled papers were withdrawn from Ritsu and Yui’s pockets while relatively unbent notecards came from the other girls to Sawako’s outstretched hand. “Excellent. Nobody cheated, right?”

Yui saluted and nodded fervently in response. “Good job,” Sawako praised, her eyes fixed on the words in front of her.

While Yui looked a bit disappointed by the lack of real praise, Sawako flipped through each card, making unintelligible comments to herself. When she got to Mio’s card, she gave the bassist a strange look, who looked away, blushing. Yui’s card also gave Sawako pause. When she finally managed to uncrumple the card enough to read it, she frowned, but didn’t comment. If this bothered Yui, she didn’t show it.

Azusa didn’t realize she was nervous until Sawako was reading her card. As she traced the teacher’s eyes, looking for any sort of reaction, she wondered what Sawako thought of her goal. _I almost forgot about what I wrote. It was spur of the moment, after all. _Her thoughts broke when Sawako looked up at her.

The teacher still refused to say anything, but Azusa could tell that her answer wasn’t being well received. It was written all over her face in the same neat handwriting Azusa herself used. She slumped down in her chair. Most of the members were now fidgeting nervously. Azusa began to wonder if Sawako was actually trying to help them as she read through Tsumugi’s and Ritsu’s goals quickly, with both receiving lukewarm facial expressions. When the teacher put the final card down, everyone stared at her expectantly. Sawako looked slowly from one student to the next, letting the suspense over her next move hang in the air.

“So, you want to know what I think?” she asked rhetorically.

Five nods answered her. Sawako grinned devilishly and snatched all five cards in her hands, quickly tearing each one into shreds. Gasps rang out around the table, loudest of all from Yui. “Sawa-chan, noooo!” Yui cried out.

As the paper confetti settled, Sawako stood up to retrieve the waste bin from a corner of the room. “That’s what I think of your goals,” the teacher commented darkly over her shoulder. “Do you want to know why?”

Everyone was hanging on Sawako’s next words, and she knew it. “I asked you not to share your goals for one simple reason: they don’t matter.” She returned to the table and swiftly brushed all the paper scraps into the bin.

Nobody dared say anything, but Sawako didn’t continue. Rather, she placed her hands on her hips and let her declaration hang in the air, unchallenged. Mio eventually raised her hand tentatively, and Sawako pointed at her. “Shoot.”

“Sawako-sensei, with all due respect, I don’t get it. What does this have to do with our problem?”

The older woman tsked, wagging her pointer finger. “Everything, my dear. Those goals you just made for the club? They don’t matter. They’re paper scraps. Confetti. Trash. Why, you ask? Because this isn’t just a club. This is a band. A band requires more than the simple surface-level connections formed by fellow club members. What you all share together as musicians is special, and I’m quite certain after observing you all for the past week that you’ve forgotten that.”

“Do you mean we should stop drinking tea and practice more like a real band?” Azusa asked hopefully.

Everyone, Sawako included, stared at Azusa like she was speaking a foreign language. Sighing, the girl shrank into her seat, embarrassment flooding her face. “I-it was just an idea…” she muttered under her breath.

Sawako shook herself a few times and continued, clearly a bit frazzled by the idea of never having tea again. “No, that’s not at all what I mean, Nakano. Please never scare us like that again. I’m saying that, as a band, your emotions will affect each other much more strongly than they would in a normal club relationship. One member has a much larger impact on the group than they realize. When the cultural festival ended, you all stopped thinking of your club like a band, and treated it like a club, an obligation to fulfill. Speaking from experience, when you stop thinking about the emotions of your bandmates, the only future left for you is heartbreak.”

Azusa had been intently listening to forget about her previous comment, but the last part threw her off. _Heartbreak? Is she referring to the breakup of her old band Death Devil, or the loss of her first love? _While the question was important, Azusa didn’t dare speak up again, lest she be shunned once more.

“So, we need to rely on each other.” Tsumugi summarized.

Sawako beamed. “Yes! 5 points for Tsumugi! The answer you’re looking for isn’t going to come from me, or any single task you want accomplish before you graduate. The answer to your problem, or the expansion of it, will only come from all of your combined effort, just as it always has. Does that make sense?”

Tsumugi nodded, but not confidently. The others had varying degrees of confusion on their face. Sawako shrugged. “I just threw a lot out there, I know. Pep talks aren’t exactly my thing.” She turned towards the door. “I’ll let you all decide what you want to do next. I hope to see you all in better spirits tomorrow. If not, well, at least have some tea ready for me, if you don’t mind.” With that, she crossed the room towards the door.

“Sawako-sensei, wait!” Mio cried out, but the teacher ignored her. “Dang it. I wanted to ask her more questions.”

Ritsu leaned back in her chair and put her hands behind her head once she was sure the teacher was gone. “Well, that was a waste of our time. Are we still having tea today, Mugi?”

“What do you mean, ‘waste of our time’?” Mio responded before Tsumugi could.

“Exactly what I said.” Ritsu shot back. “We don’t need Sawa-chan to tell us that we’re a band. She’s the one stuck in the past, not us. I still say we’re fine.”

“If we were fine, we wouldn’t sound like a bunch of amateurs who couldn’t keep tempo with each other to save their lives,” Mio growled.

Ritsu cocked an eyebrow, a challenging grin appearing on her face. “Is that what you think, Mio? Then by all means, why don’t you try standing on a soapbox and telling us your thoughts next? I’m sure it’ll be good for a laugh.”

“How about instead of making fun of us trying to make things better you actually contribute!” Mio practically yelled at her friend.

Tsumugi raised her hands out, creating a physical wall between the two girls. “Maybe we should go home for the day too,” she suggested forcefully. “I think we might just start arguing if we stay here.”

Mio and Ritsu continued to glare daggers at each other, but a rare stern look from Tsumugi convinced both of them to call off their argument, at least for the moment. Azusa frowned. _We’re not going to make any progress if we just go home instead of talking to each other! _The urge to jump in was broken by the girl’s previous reactions. She herself wasn’t certain what Sawako actually wanted them to do, but splitting up after all that talk about bonds couldn’t be the right answer.

As Azusa fought to gain the willpower to speak up, Yui beat her to the punch. “Do you all mind if I stay back with Azu-nyan for a bit? I need help restringing Giita.”

Yui received a look from Azusa. The brown-haired girl appeared to be somewhat embarrassed, though it was difficult to tell with her pink scarf covering the bottom half of her face. “That’s fine with me,” Mio agreed, clearly not listening very closely.

“Yup, have fun,” Ritsu agreed, similar levels of interest in her response.

Worry was etched on Azusa’s face as she watched her senpais sans Yui get ready to leave without her. Tsumugi placed a comforting hand on Azusa’s shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on those two, don’t worry,” she promised the younger girl.

Feeling a bit relieved, Azusa decided that she was able to turn her full attention to Yui as the other three club members left the room, giving the two half-hearted goodbyes. While Yui took off her scarf and pulled out her guitar, Azusa’s resolve from earlier in the day came flooding back. _I have to ask her about what Ui-chan said. _

As Azusa started to help her senior with the guitar restringing process, it occurred to her that Yui’s strings were in far too good of a condition to be ready to be changed. Thinking about it, she realized that it hadn’t actually been that long ago since she last helped change Giita’s strings. She looked at the girl, who was thoroughly engrossed in her work, all of the lethargy gone from her body. _She really cares about her guitar. That’s very… responsible of her. _The adjective felt wrong, even in her head, but she shoved her thoughts aside. “Yui-senpai, can I ask you something?”

“Eh?” Yui glanced up from her work. “What’s up, Azu-nyan?”

“Well, I’m just impressed by how well you’re maintaining your guitar. Normally, you wouldn’t even think of changing strings so soon, but here you are, chang- huh?”

Azusa broke off when she noticed that Yui was staring at her. Yui’s task had been completely abandoned to focus entirely on her kouhai. “You noticed,” she commented, more to herself than anyone else.

“Of course,” Azusa responded, not sure how to feel about the attention. “I taught you how to change your strings, after all. The least I could do is make sure you keep them maintained.”

Yui nodded to herself, an attempt at a serious expression on her face. “I guess I’ll just say it then, Azu-nyan: I asked you to stay behind with me for a special reason.”

Whatever Yui was going to say next, Azusa cut her off. The feeling of guilt had gotten too heavy within her. “Yui-senpai, before you go on, I need to apologize.”

Caught off guard, Yui tilted her head. “For what?”

“For what I said yesterday, about you always being carefree all the time. It was insensitive. I’m sorry.” She bowed her head from her seat in apology. _Whether I’m right or wrong, what I said was uncalled for. This is the right thing to do._

“You spoke with Ui, then?” Yui asked knowingly. “I guess I wasn’t hiding it very well, ehehe.”

“How’d you know?” Azusa asked, a gasp escaping her lips.

Yui giggled, but her eyes didn’t light up. “Silly Azu-nyan. The only one who would know if I’m really sad is Ui. If the others found out about this, it’d just make them feel worse than they already do.”

Though the distance between them was close, Azusa had never felt further away from her senpai. The empty stare and half-hearted smile the older girl was giving her fellow guitarist created a chasm that Azusa had no hope of crossing. It was the same look that Yui had shown Azusa the day before, one that Azusa couldn’t interpret. The pigtailed girl’s mind reeled. _No way… Yui-senpai is Yui-senpai. She doesn’t just get sad, not like this. These things shouldn’t be happening. I… I have to do something! _

“You should have told us if you were sad about something,” Azusa insisted, hoping her trembling voice wouldn’t betray her worry. “Your burdens are our burdens.”

Yui shook her head. “No, Azusa, they aren’t.” The finality of the statement rubbed Azusa the wrong way, and indignation flared up in her.

“Stop it,” she ordered her senpai. “Don’t you dare say that to me!” She found herself standing up in her chair in righteous fury, an echo of her conversation earlier in the day.

“Did you hear anything Sawako-sensei said? We’re a band! We have to move forward through this together!” Azusa’s anger had turned into some form of pleading somewhere along the way from her brain to her mouth. “Please, don’t leave me behind before you graduate.”

Yui’s eyes widened. “Azu-nyan, I-“

For once, Azusa was the one to cut Yui off with a hug. While she had grown to tolerate Yui’s constant hug assaults, she still rarely reciprocated. Seeing the empty look her senpai was giving her brought out an overwhelming desire for Azusa to try and bring the older girl back, using whatever means were necessary. “You’re going to leave me behind soon, so please, don’t do it before you have to,” she implored, holding her senpai tightly.

In the moment, she didn’t care how Yui saw her. It didn’t matter that she was acting just like the scared little kitten her nickname was inspired by. She’d held back long enough. As the heated seconds of action passed and Azusa began to think clearly, however, she began to consider the implications of her actions. _What am I doing? This is the kind of thing I try to discourage Yui-senpai from. Why am I holding her like this and why is she crying? _Before she could think to pull herself away, Yui had locked herself into the hug with Azusa, her body racked with sobs.

With no choice, Azusa allowed her senpai to cry, patting her back slowly every now and then. Despite the tears, Azusa felt warm, safe, even. She decided that this was an exception. She owed her senpai one good hug after her comment yesterday, after all. That was only part of the reason Azusa held her position. Though she could never admit it to anyone, least of all Yui, she found solace in the attention her senpai gave her. The feeling of someone being happy just to be around you was invigorating, even if Yui pushed her boundaries a little. After some time had passed, Yui calmed down, but she didn’t let go, clinging onto Azusa where she stood next to her senpais chair. “I just wanted us to stay together longer,” Yui whispered, holding back the tears from starting anew.

“So did I,” Azusa responded without thinking.

In that moment, realization struck both girls. They pulled away simultaneously, staring at each other, frantically confirming that what they had both just felt was real with their eyes. Yui’s gaze had been shocked back into normalcy, but Azusa was too distracted to feel relieved. They had known what their problem was the whole time, of course, but saying it out loud, to someone else, triggered something neither girl saw coming in each other. While they had indirectly spoken the truth after the cultural festival, coming clean about their fear sparked a new feeling entirely. The connections that held the band members together had been pulled taut for the first time in weeks, and both girls felt the effects immediately. Azusa blushed and turned away as she realized she was staring at her senpai for an inappropriate amount of time. “Yui-senpai… I think I’m starting to get what Sawako-sensei was trying to say. About how we affect each other, I mean.”

Yui nodded enthusiastically, standing up to face her junior directly. “Me too! Me too! I have to tell the others! And Ui! And Sawa-chan! And-”

“Wait wait, hold on!” Azusa insisted, waving her hands in front of her to slow her senpai’s train of thought down. “We don’t know how the others feel about this yet! We can’t just charge forward all gung-ho about this. Just because we’re worried about the same thing doesn’t mean they are too!”

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Yui asked innocently. “Besides, it couldn’t hurt to try, right?”

Azusa opened her mouth, but no clever counter-arguments came out. “I…suppose not. Even so, how do we know this is the issue? I mean, we have the same problem, but what about the solution?”

“Azu-nyan, relax. Whatever happens, we need to tell the others about this. We’re a band, and a band solves the band’s problems together.”

The determination Yui used mixed with a mother’s reassurance assuaged Azusa’s concerns. Even so, talking with Yui somehow seemed easier than talking to the whole band at once. She hadn’t even meant to tell Yui about her real concerns. Doubts sprang up like weeds in her mind as she and Yui quickly finished restringing Giita. All the while, Yui seemed to have snapped back to her normal self, excitedly discussing the music she’d been practicing as if nothing had happened. Azusa fought to maintain her normal façade to keep up with the bubbly senior. _Yui-senpai isn’t always carefree, and Yui-senpai isn’t always sad. Yui-senpai is Yui-senpai, plain and simple. She’s not just an airhead, she’s a person too. I suppose it was foolish of me to believe I was alone. Still, what about the others? What about me? I don’t feel any different, not really. Am I okay now? Why do I feel like I’m missing something?_

The last question remained unanswered as Yui gave her newly strung guitar a squeeze. “Thanks for your help, Azu-nyan! Giita says thanks too!”

Azusa couldn’t help but grin a little, seeing the Yui she remembered once more. “You’re welcome, Yui-senpai. When were we going to talk to the others?”

Yui grinned as she put her guitar away. “Don’t worry, I have a plan! We’ll have everything back to normal by the time school starts tomorrow!”

The bold statement struck the girl so hard she almost fell over, snapping her into reality. _Fixing everything by tomorrow, huh? _Her grin widened in spite of herself.

Somehow, Azusa wasn’t reassured, but the feeling comforted her. Without question, that was how things should be.


	5. Meeting!

**November 5th, Early Morning**

Mio Akiyama closed her front door as silently as she could. It wouldn’t do to wake her family up this early in the morning. The frosty morning wind buffeted her back, her blazer utterly failing in its duty to keep her warm. Apprehensively, she snuck a peek at the time, holding back a gasp as she realized she was probably going to be late. Shivering at the thought and the weather, she sprinted quietly away from her home, heading for the park near the library. Her breath began to form into wispy puffs of chilled air as she ran. Silently, she cursed Yui Hirasawa and Azusa Nakano for forcing her outside before the sun was completely up on a winter school day. _Oh sure, I’ll drop everything to go to the park with you tomorrow morning, Yui! Never mind the temperature, let’s go play in the sandbox before it freezes over! _Her pumping hands clenched into fists. _Calm down, Mio. This is for the band. This is for the band. _

The bassist repeated the mantra in her head over and over again. She knew couldn’t get mad at Yui or Azusa for doing exactly what she told everyone she wanted to do herself. _First, find out if those two actually figured out something, then you can yell at them. Yeah, that’ll work. This better not turn out to be some sort of prank._

* * *

Tsumugi Kotobuki stepped off the train and onto the platform, shining eyes taking in every detail of her surroundings. _This is so exciting! _

Despite the chilly blast that greeted her arrival, she only shivered in anticipation. Convincing the servants that she needed to leave for a school project without prior notice hadn’t been easy, but she had the advantage of innocence on her side. None of them probably had any idea that the heiress was even capable of lying for her own benefit to them, a talent Ritsu had been very careful to cultivate in her. _Hehe, if only they knew I stayed up 30 minutes past curfew last night… _She grinned wickedly to herself. _I bet the others went to sleep at 10:00 like everyone else. _

The keyboardist yawned as she made her way to Yui’s determined meeting place. Perhaps staying up later than normal due to her excitement was a bad idea in retrospect. Rules existed for a reason, after all. _Oh well, it’s for the band. I hope the others don’t make the same mistake I did…_

* * *

Azusa Nakano’s phone rang for the 7th time that morning. The girl’s eyes shot open, not quite awake, but completely jarred from sleep. A hand flung itself in the direction of her night stand, narrowly missing her lamp and dead alarm clock. The unsteady hand fumbled for the source of the noisy intrusion while the body struggled to wake itself up. Eventually, the target was secured, and bleary eyes squinted to read the name flashing at it, Hirasawa Yui. Irritated, Azusa was tempted to let the phone go to voicemail, but she knew from experience that Yui would just keep calling her until she picked up or texted her. Sighing, she answered her phone, “Yui-senpai, do you have any idea what time it is?” she groaned.

“Azu-nyan!” Yui’s voice rang out cheerily, completely ignoring the other girl’s comment. “Are you almost there?”

Caught off guard, Azusa groggily tried to remember what her senpai was talking about. “There?” she asked, struggling to sit up in her bed.

“Yeah, at the park, remember?”

Azusa was instantly awake. Memories of the last 24 hours crashed into her. “I’ll be there soon!” she managed to get out before hanging up and practically flinging herself out of bed.

_How the hell did I manage to oversleep?! Me? They’re all gonna be waiting on me! _Mortified by her own laziness, Azusa raced the rising sun through her morning routine with a speed she never knew she had.

Driven into a fervor by the concept of being so late to her own meeting, Azusa was able to get out the door mere minutes after hanging up on Yui, a piece of toast in her mouth and a rushed goodbye left hanging in the air for parents she had forgotten weren’t home. _I’ve got to get there as soon as possible. I can’t let the band or my senpais down. Hopefully they all just show up late like they normally do._

* * *

Ritsu Tainaka sprinted around the park as fast as she could, completely oblivious to the plight of her junior. She wasn’t ever one for sports, or athletics, or exercise, but the feeling of the wind in her face and the blood roaring through her body as she pumped out each step could almost be as exhilarating as playing drums. Almost. She crossed her imaginary finish line and stopped herself from doubling over before catching her breath. _Let’s see… if my rhythm is still on, that was… 25 seconds! Nice, new record! _

The drummer pumped her fist and looked up at the decently sized playground she had been doing laps around since she arrived and immediately got bored of waiting 20 minutes ago. Memories of visiting the playground to play with Mio when they were children surfaced in her mind. Instead of the memory bringing a smile to her face, it only reminded her that said childhood friend was nowhere to be seen. _Where are those idiots? _ _I could have played all of our songs twice by now! Is this the thanks I get for being early for once? _She practically fell onto a park bench, appreciating the cool sensation that assaulted her body.

Checking her phone to confirm once more that she was in the right place, Ritsu groaned at the empty park. _The only thing wrong with our band is that our guitarists think it’s okay to drag the other members out in the cold like this on a school day. Even I’m not this cruel. _

As Ritsu stewed to herself, the sound of footsteps caught her attention. Turning her head, she saw Mio barreling towards her, clearly as exhausted from running as Ritsu herself was. Confirming the current time to be certain of herself, Ritsu grinned wickedly. _We’re meeting for the sake of the band, and Ritsu is the only one who shows up on time? This is gonna be good…_

* * *

Yui closed her phone, a small smile appearing on her face. _Sounds like Azu-nyan overslept. Poor thing. I’ll have to wake her up with a hug when I see her! _

Pocketing her device, Yui had to concentrate for a moment to remember where she was going. Ui had given her very specific written instructions on how to get to the park, but she’d been there enough times to memorize the route. _I’m not completely hopeless. Ui doesn’t do everything for me! I get dressed and go to school all by myself after Ui wakes me up and makes my breakfast and lunch. Wait, that’s a bad example. Ummmm… I can focus really well when I need to! Almost too well… No, don’t think about that right now! _

Sensing that her thoughts were going somewhere she didn’t want them to, Yui forged onwards, leaving her musings behind. The morning air sent a particularly cold breeze over the guitarist, chilling even the part of her back protected from the elements by her guitar. Shivering, she picked up the pace, wishing the sun would finish coming up. _We aren’t even in winter yet! This isn’t fair!_

Yui’s walk slowly transformed into a jog as eagerness to be anywhere but outside overrode laziness. _I hope the others don’t mind if we make this a quick emotional discussion. Oh, maybe Mugi brought tea… _Thoughts of warm food and tea filled the senior’s mind, keeping her distracted long enough to reach the park without freezing over.

The park Yui and Azusa had chosen wasn’t very large. It had a green field that was surrounded by spotted patches of trees and a decently sized playground, but not much else. Despite that, it was rather popular in the warmer months for the atmosphere it gave off, a stark contrast to the more urban feel of the surrounding area. Looking around for her friends, Yui found a scene far colder than the weather.

Tsumugi, Mio, and Ritsu were all already present, but two of the band members refused to look at each other, while Tsumugi appeared to be in a state of panic. Ritsu was laying on her back on a bench while Mio stood an icy distance away with her back to the other two girls. Tsumugi was saying something frantically to Ritsu, who wasn’t listening. None of this fazed the brown-haired girl. “Hey there, everyone!” she greeted enthusiastically, waving a hand wildly as she jogged over to her friends.

Mio started, but regained her composure quickly, nodding to Yui cordially without completely turning to face the others. Ritsu forced herself to stand while Tsumugi put on a clearly forced smile. “Ah, Yui-chan. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but-”

“But nothing,” Ritsu butted in. “You wanted us out here, we’re here, Yui. Where’s Nakano? I ought to give you two a penalty for dragging us out here like this, you know. I show up early for once and the thanks I get is late arrivals and people yelling at me like it’s my fault. When I get my hands on that little kitty, I’ll-”

Ritsu continued to rant about how early she showed up and how cold it was while Yui realized that Azusa was indeed absent. In retrospect, that made sense, given that Yui had apparently been the one to wake her up that morning. Reminding herself to call Azusa again if she didn’t show soon, Yui turned her attention to the girls in front of her.

_Okay… Mio-chan and Ricchan must have argued again. Mugi-chan’s making that really clear with that expression of hers. I need to get Mio-chan to listen and Ricchan to calm down. Focus, Yui! It’s up to you to handle this! It’s just like finding the right chords to play, ne? But I have a hard time remembering chords… no, come on, this is what you’ve been preparing for! _

“You’re right, Ritsu,” Yui stated plainly, stopping the drummer’s complaining dead.

“I am?” she responded dumbly.

“I made a promise to Azu-nyan that I would have everything back to normal by the time school started tomorrow. Because of that, I convinced everyone to come out earlier than I should have. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” She bowed deeply, careful not to make the mistake of smacking someone with the guitar strung across her back as she did.

“Oh, well, don’t do it again, alright Private?”

Ritsu stuttered a bit as she spoke, not expecting such a formal apology. As Yui had hoped, Mio turned to face the others, though she still wouldn’t look directly at Ritsu. “If that’s all it is, then get to the point please, Yui-chan. I want to go inside.”

Silent force placed in Mio’s command washed over Yui, nearly forcing her to take a step backwards. It wasn’t the same aura of confidence Yui felt when they played together, rather an invisible barrier, put up with the intention of keeping people away from Mio Akiyama. The guitarist blinked a few times to compose herself. Even if she wasn’t of the mind to listen right now, Yui had to try. The fact that she bothered to come out in the first place meant at least some part of her was listening. “Right. The point. I need all of you to answer me this question honestly.”

The guitarist paused to ensure she had everyone’s undivided attention. She could tell they were at least curious about what could spur such an impromptu meeting. She took a slow, deep breath. _Just say it._

“Are you all worried about band coming to an end?”

Four girls stood facing each other in a loose square. Yui maintained the most serious expression she could muster, the one she normally only wore when learning difficult guitar parts. The wistful wind was the only thing that passed between them, ruffling hair and skirts to provide the illusion of movement where none existed. Yui’s question had had pulled the pin out of the grenade, but nobody reacted, as if silence could inevitably delay its detonation. Tsumugi and Mio shared a look, finding similar answers in each other’s eyes that they couldn’t put into words. The unspoken question of the band’s longevity was taboo as far as they were concerned.

Yui looked on as the two fought internally with their responses, silently willing them to open up the way she and Azusa had. She reached out to the other girls in front of her in her mind, searching for the line that had connected them together for years. She recalled the connection she had rekindled with Azusa yesterday, and called on her other friends to remember the bond their band was built on in the first place. What she got back was uncertainty and doubt, reluctance to face their issues head on, as they always had. Yui had always been good at reading what her friends were feeling, and their body language worried her. _We’ve done nothing but think about this to ourselves for over a week. It doesn’t work! Say something, anything, to me, please! _

“What’s to be worried about? We already know what’s going to happen in March.”

Three heads snapped towards the voice’s source, a very apathetic drummer. Between the four of them, Ritsu appeared to be the most relaxed, maintaining her casual posture. Yui was certainly startled by the nonchalance in Ritsu’s response, but Mio recovered first, with anger lighting up her grey eyes. “And you’re just okay with that?” she accused.

“I didn’t say that, but that’s how it is,” Ritsu responded coolly, putting her hands behind her head. “We all know you and Mugi are leaving us slackers behind for your fancy colleges in a couple months. Nakano has another year of high school to complete. You’re the smart one. You tell me if you think the band can stay together the way things are.”

The lack of care in Ritsu’s voice had gotten to more than just Mio. Tsumugi started trembling, as if she had just noticed how cold it was. Mio’s hands clenched into fists, which caused Ritsu to grin mischievously. “You can hit me if you want. I don’t mind. We all knew this was going to happen at some point. You wanna be the one to say it, or are you gonna make me take the lead, as usual?”

Mio’s knuckles began to turn white. Yui started to panic internally. Ritsu and Mio argued all the time, to the point that it was stranger for the pair not to be at odds with each other. What Yui was looking at was nothing like the dynamic she had gotten used to. Mio looked like she actually wanted to hurt Ritsu, while Ritsu didn’t seem to care about the effect her words were having on her friend, even on a teasing level. Tsumugi tried to place a hand gingerly on Mio’s shoulder, but she was shrugged off fiercely. The bassist took a step towards her childhood friend, who wasn’t intimidated.

“What’s wrong, barnacle got your tongue? Don’t look at me like I’m the bad guy here, just because I’m willing to admit that this band is going to disappear in a few months. Does that not fit in with your fairytale view of reality, Mio?”

Ritsu’s goading continued as Mio closed the already small gap between them. Tsumugi was pleading for both of them to stop at this point, but she was completely ignored. Yui exchanged a look with her blonde friend. They both knew what was going to happen if one of them didn’t stop it. To Tsumugi’s surprise, Yui gave her friend a tiny, yet reassuring smile, silently asking the keyboardist to let her handle this. Tsumugi could only respond with a barely perceptible nod. As Mio got within striking distance, Yui made her move. The other three girls paused, baffled, as Yui put herself between Ritsu and Mio, facing the latter while shielding the former with her body, arms spread out defensively. Mio regarded her friend coldly.

“Move.”

“No.”

Mio cocked an eyebrow. “You heard what she said, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then move.”

“No.”

“Nobody’s asking you to get involved, Yui,” Ritsu added helpfully. “If she wants to smack me around, let her. Maybe then she’ll wake up and face reality.”

“Both of you need to wake up,” Yui shot back. “What makes either of you think this is the solution to our problem?”

Ritsu tilted her head, the fire in Yui’s tone intriguing her. “Like I’ve been saying, there is no problem.”

Yui wheeled on the balls of her feet to face Ritsu, who took a step back in surprise. It wasn’t the motion that had caught her off guard, but rather the look she was being given by the guitarist. “Ricchan, it’s okay to admit that you’re scared, you know.”

The stony expression Yui was using had changed into the last thing Ritsu expected: pity. The drummer caught herself in a stare and scoffed to recover. “Really, now, what’s with that look? Do you actually think I’m scared about this? What am I, five?”

“It’s okay, Ricchan. I’m scared too. When I think about the end of the year, and not seeing you all every day, I-” tears started to collect in Yui’s eyes, but she shook them off.

_Not yet. I can’t cry yet. _

“I just want you to be honest with me Ricchan. We’re all friends, right? It’s okay for you to open up to us.”

“Cut it out,” Ritsu ordered lamely, clearly rattled. “D-don’t look at me like that. I’m not scared, you hear me?! I’m not scared! I’m the club president! It’s my job to lead you all, not to be scared!”

Tears began to roll down the drummer’s face. Yui placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, receiving no resistance. “Let it out, Ricchan. We all feel the same way. It’s okay.”

Ritsu shut her eyes, trying in vain to rein in her emotions. The conflict Yui felt running through her friend hardened her resolve. She cast a look back to Mio, who was watching the interaction in stunned silence. The bassist looked between her clenched fist and the girl she had been planning on striking, who was now barely holding back sobs. “We all feel the same way, don’t you agree?” Yui repeated, giving Mio a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Mio’s hands fully unclenched. Her whole body started quivering, like she had seen a ghost. Regret burned away the anger in her eyes. She had been about to strike her best friend for feeling the same pain she herself felt. The bassist felt her own eyes begin to betray her with tears. Somewhere in her mind, she sensed that Tsumugi had moved to stand next to her.

“I… I’m scared too!” the keyboardist declared.

Three pairs of eyes turned to the blonde. “I… I didn’t know what to do. You all just seemed s-so distant. I thought, no, I feared that we were going to-” she broke off, crying making her words unintelligible.

“Damn it, we were supposed to be fine!” Ritsu suddenly yelled, shaking Yui’s hand off. “Now everyone’s crying! Is this what you wanted, Yui?”

The fierce stare Ritsu attempted was completely dowsed by the tears in her eyes. Yui could feel her friend’s emotions more clearly than she ever had since their last performance. They only needed a small shove to get the truth out.

“I wanted to be honest,” Yui replied simply, her own tears beginning to flow without her consent. “Azu-nyan was honest with me, and I want to be honest with you all: I don’t want you all to go.”

The emotions Yui had been trying to hide finally broke her composure, and she could feel her worries expressing themselves with sobs. Through the tidal wave of emotion shaking her, her main concern was still with the three girls around her. _I did it. I told them how I feel. Is this enough, Sawa-chan, Azu-nyan? _

Yui’s answer was a pair of arms wrapping around her comfortingly. She blinked up at Mio’s somber yet caring expression. “I don’t want us to go either.”

All the aggression she had built up over the situation was expressed in the ferocity of the powerful hug, and Yui couldn’t be happier to take the brunt of it. She wriggled her arms out enough to return the hug with her friend. Almost immediately, Tsumugi had joined them, her calming presence contrasting harshly with the unfiltered tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, but her warmth told Yui and Mio more than they ever needed to hear.

As seconds passed, all three girls turned their attention to the hold out, who was still fighting her own battle with crying. Ritsu looked at the three seniors huddled in front of her. They all had tears in their eyes, but their expressions could almost be described as joyful. Ritsu realized that they were expecting a response from her. She attempted to muster up the bravado to put her façade back on, but found her willpower to be drained. “Fine… you got me,” she muttered, almost to herself.

Despite her position, Mio wasn’t ready to let Ritsu off so easily. “What are you trying to say, baka?” she goaded.

Through her tears, Ritsu found it in herself to smirk. “I’m saying… I don’t want you all to go either!”

With that loud declaration, she practically tackled the group with her own hug, nearly sending all four girls tumbling to the ground. Miraculously, they remained standing, the four original members of HTT locked in one embrace. The sun finally escaped out from under the ground, but none of the girls were cold anymore.

Yui could feel the warmth of affection radiating off of each of her closest friends, keeping her safe from the elements. For the second time in the span of a day, Yui sensed the connections she had spent years cultivating with her bandmates, connections that had become worn and frayed ever since their final performance, spring back to life with renewed passion. Even when the four girls eventually separated, Yui could still feel the heat from each of them, like they were still connected together. She could tell the others felt the same way by the way they looked between each other. Mio was the one who finally broke the silence between them.

“We’ve really been acting like idiots, huh?” 

* * *

**November 5th, 23 Minutes Later**

When Azusa reached the park, sweating and panting from the sprint she had endured with her guitar doing its best to slow her down, she felt like collapsing. Unlike Ritsu, who ran for fun, or Mio, who was able to draw on her emotions to fuel her movement, Azusa barely had the stamina to survive gym class. The weather was doing its best to make things difficult as well. Knowing how late she was, Azusa didn’t dare check her phone, instead opting to pick her head up and look for her senpais to apologize as soon as possible.

Upon succeeding her search, the sight Azusa was greeted with felt surreal. She only had to look at her senpais once to see they had changed, and the girl felt herself become frozen to the ground. Tsumugi was beaming more brightly than even the sun behind the four girls, the forced smile from the previous week a distant memory. Ritsu’s lackadaisical attitude was gone, replaced with the animated charm and refreshing bluntness she remembered, every movement like the sound of a drumbeat that conveyed the girl’s happiness. Mio’s cold, stiff posture from the past week had disappeared, and she actually laughed along with the others when Ritsu told some sort of joke. Yui, for her part, was positively glowing, though it may have just been the sun’s reflection on the tear stains on her face. Azusa couldn’t hear her senpais were saying, but she didn’t need to guess at what had happened before she arrived. The urge to run up to them was tugging at her, but the feeling keeping her rooted in place was stronger. Despite Azusa’s best efforts, she couldn’t bring herself to approach the scene in front of her, as if she was concerned it might disappear like a mirage if she got close.

_They’re all shining so brightly. Yui-senpai was right about how they felt. I should be happier right now, shouldn’t I? Everything should go back to normal now. Why am I not approaching them? Why do I feel so… empty? _

Time became blurry for the younger girl. Azusa was still struggling to move when Yui noticed her and hugged her, ecstatically relaying everything that had happened while she was gone. Her wide brown eyes barely registered that Yui was even there by the time she had stopped hugging the younger girl. She felt empty when Ritsu reprimanded the two guitarists for pulling them out in the cold, no matter how good the reason was. Coherent apologies left her mouth, but she wasn’t sure exactly what she said. Her body acted on autopilot while her mind remained fixated on the fantastical sight from her arrival that morning, and her inability to come anywhere near it.

Classes served as little distraction for Azusa’s musings, every part of her mental ability focused on identifying the aching feeling welling up within her. The lunch period arrived, but Azusa was still standing in the park, still trying to process the scene she had walked in on. It was too normal. All of her concerns couldn’t just disappear overnight. She couldn’t accept that. In reality, she could hear Ui talking to her.

“Hello? Azusa-chan? Are you feeling alright?”

As Azusa struggled to drag herself into the present, someone clapped their hands in front of her face, nearly startling her out of her chair. Ui also yelped in surprise, only to give Jun a look of irritation when she identified the source of the noise. Azusa felt like somebody had slapped her and punched her in the gut at the same time. The only benefit to the unpleasant sensations running through her body was that they reminded her where she was and what she was doing. “Jun-chan, what was that for?” she asked calmly, when she felt confident enough to speak

“Says the girl who wouldn’t respond to us trying to talk to her for a full minute,” Jun retorted, rolling her eyes. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“I… don’t know,” Azusa admitted, her bearings still a little uncertain.

Jun’s posture softened a bit. “Well, Sawako-sensei is asking for you. You should probably go see her in the office before lunch ends.”

Azusa blinked. _Sawako-sensei wants to talk to me? _

“I see.” Nothing else felt right to say at the moment.

Jun rolled her eyes. “Alright, we’ve passed the message on to the space cadet. Come on Ui, let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

Ui glanced between her two friends. “Actually, I think I’m going to walk Azusa-chan to the office. I’ll catch up with you afterwards.”

Jun cast a suspicious look on her friend, who smiled sheepishly. Eventually, she sighed, telling them to hurry back. Ui didn’t waste any time, practically dragging Azusa out of her chair and the classroom. It was obvious that Ui wanted to say something from the way she tried to catch Azusa’s eye, but the girl wasn’t in the mood for a repeat of yesterday. Thus, Azusa detached herself from her friend and started walking as quickly as possible to her destination, the teacher’s office. Ui followed quickly, trying to catch her friend’s eye, but Azusa was having none of it. They made it to the end of the hallway before Ui sighed in defeat. “You know, I wanted to walk with you so I could thank you privately, but if you don’t want to talk right now, that’s okay.”

Azusa’s attention was ensnared by something for the first time since arriving at school. “Thank me for what?”

“For cheering up Onee-chan!” Ui responded ecstatically. “It was amazing! I haven’t seen her so happy since the cultural festival!”

Ui was looking expectantly at Azusa, and she wasn’t sure why. _What does she want me to say? Yui-senpai probably just forgot she was sad. _

“That’s good to hear.”

The silence that followed told Azusa that her response wasn’t what Ui was expecting. Azusa speculated on whether she had confused the girl when she realized she was walking alone.

“Is something wrong, Azusa-chan?”

Ui had stopped walking, and was staring at her friend with a worried expression. For some reason, Azusa was irritated. “What makes you say that?” she asked, a little more harshly than she meant to.

“You just walked past the teacher’s office.”

Blinking, Azusa realized that her friend was right. _Am I that out of it today?_

Embarrassed, Azusa thanked Ui for walking her and practically barged into the teacher’s office before Ui could get another word in. In her haste to get away from her current situation, mannerisms abandoned her. Taking a second to look around, she was relieved to see that Sawako was the only person present to witness her disrespectful entrance. Sawako herself was working on grading papers, and didn’t even react to the door suddenly being opened and closed.

“Your senpais have been causing me no end of trouble today,” Sawako stated bluntly, without looking up.

“How did you know it was me, Sawako-sensei?” Azusa asked, incredulous.

“I could hear Yui’s sister gushing from half a hallway away,” Sawako explained dismissively.

Wondering if Ui had actually been that loud, Azusa approached her teacher to change the subject. “You said you wanted to see me?”

Sawako leaned back in her chair. “That I did. As I said, your senpais have been busy today. Passing notes, talking in class, all of Yui and Ritsu’s usual antics. For a minute I thought they might have actually listened to me for once, but I wanted to talk to you to confirm things before I got myself excited.”

Azusa tilted her head. “Why me?”

The reflection of the light in the room hid Sawako’s eyes from Azusa, but she could tell she was being regarded carefully. Sawako used the same look when she was thinking of new outfits to force upon the band, or rather her and Mio.

“Why not you? You’re a member of the band too, aren’t you? You’re saying nothing happened between you all in the last 24 hours?” The teacher swiveled in her chair to face the junior properly, crossing her legs in a manner that was naturally intimidating.

Immediately, Azusa’s mind drifted back to the park. She could feel herself freezing up again, the way she did when she saw her senpais that morning. Slapping herself in her head, she fought to maintain control. “We had a meeting this morning before school,” she managed to get out.

“I see.” This clearly wasn’t news to the teacher, but Azusa didn’t notice. “What did you discuss?”

“I… don’t know,” Azusa admitted, her head drooping.

Sawako raised an eyebrow. “Must have been a pretty boring meeting then, if even you spaced out.”

“No, that’s not what I meant! I showed up late, so I missed most of the meeting, and-”

“And none of the girls decided to tell you what they were talking about?” Sawako cut in.

Azusa paused, sweat beginning to form on her brow. She felt like a domestic kitten being cornered by a predatory wolf. “Well, no, they told me what happened, but I-”

“Forgot? That’s not like you either, Miss Nakano. Are you feeling well?”

Seeing an out, Azusa pounced. “Yes, that’s it! I’m not feeling well, so I forgot about the meeting! That’s what happened I’m sorry please forgive me!”

The words tumbled out as Azusa became more frantic. She was grasping at straws, and both her and Sawako knew that. The teacher looked at the pile of papers on her desk, not allowing the younger girl to read her expression.

“I spoke with Miss Hirasawa right before I called you in. She seemed adamant that you and the others practice again today.”

Somehow, the idea of practice made Azusa’s blood ran cold. She could almost feel herself slipping, tumbling into a darkness that confused her senses and made her lose her sense of direction.

_What? What’s going on? There has to be some mistake. Why does the thought of practice make me feel like this all of a sudden? Of all the days to want to practice, Yui-senpai wants to practice today? Oh, what am I thinking, of course she wants to play with the others after what happened this morning. But what’s wrong with me? Yui-senpai… you said we’d have fixed everything by now, so why do I feel so broken inside? _

Sawako’s expression softened as she observed the turmoil attacking the younger girl. “If you’re not feeling up to it, I can tell the others not to practice today.”

“NO!” the pig-tailed girl yelled, startling both herself and the teacher. Her face flushed in embarrassment.

_No matter what, I can’t ruin what I saw this morning. I told Yui-senpai how I felt. We’re all connected through the band, that much is obvious. Even if I have to stay behind… I will. It’s for the band. _

“Sawako-sensei, please tell the others I’m not feeling well enough to join them after school today.”

Every word stung to put out, but Azusa told herself it was for the best. She couldn’t allow her brooding to bring down her fellow club members. Sawako studied her student. “Are you sure?” was all she said.

Determination overrode the aching pain within Azusa. “Yes. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

Without waiting to be dismissed, Azusa turned and walked out of the office, back towards her own classroom.

Sawako watched the youngest member of HTT go, a contemplative frown on her face. _Perhaps I should have confronted her about all of this sooner. She was always going to have this the hardest, after all. _

Sighing, the teacher returned to the mountain of work that always seemed to appear when she needed it the least. She allowed her concerns about Azusa and the others to drift away as she became engrossed in her grading. _I’ve given them my advice. It’s up to them to decide what happens next. _


	6. Missing!

** November 6th, Late Morning **

Soft footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise silent Nakano residence. Azusa could never get over how sterile her own home felt. The old abode had been full of strange furniture, out of season holiday decorations and, most importantly, warmth. None of those things made the cut when her family moved to this house several years ago. She made her way down the dark hallway, not needing light to reach her intended destination. As she passed by the living room, the only room in the house besides her own with any sort of decor, she paused. Various music-related paraphernalia recalling her parent’s days as jazz musicians covered the walls, the only proof such a life was ever led by the adults of the house. Their old guitars were presently locked securely behind two glass cases, their only remaining purpose to provide a talking point for visitors. Noticing the fine layer of dust over the glass case, an image of Azusa’s own guitar being the one locked away flashed in her mind. She blinked and shook her head.

Before Azusa’s father had begun to move up the ladder at his corporate job, he and his wife played guitar for young Azusa all the time. Having two guitarists as parents all but ensured that Azusa was going to pick up the instrument herself from an early age. Her parents inspired her when they played, and Azusa couldn’t help but fall in love with the instrument. Her love only deepened further as she learned to play herself. There was something magical about being able to imprint her emotions into a sound, a language anyone could understand. As the years wore on, however, she slowly became aware that she was the only person in her family still playing.

Father was gone for more and more of the day, and was rarely willing pick up the guitar when he was home. Mrs. Nakano followed her husband’s example, and spent most of her days working to enhance the “social influence” of their family, as she had once put it, doing everything from arranging meetings with father’s associates to hanging out with(brownnosing) their spouses to stay in their good graces. The change was only really noticed by Azusa when they had moved to her current house. Apparently, every good businessman lived in a museum with no exhibits to show outside of two workaholic parents and their daughter. Somewhere along the line, Azusa had given up asking her parents to play with her. The ideal daughter of the Nakano family wouldn’t bother to waste everyone’s time on such frivolous activities.

Sighing to herself, Azusa moved on. Stewing on old thoughts like this was bad for her, she chastised herself. Reaching her destination, the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator door callously. The sticky note her mother had left to inform her that she and Mr. Nakano would be gone until the late evening fluttered to the ground at Azusa’s socked feet. Though the young guitarist had been tempted to not get dressed at all that morning when she read the note, her diligent nature denied such lethargy. The compromise was a simple grey one-piece shirt that passed her hips with a similar dark blue shirt underneath, and a single ponytail for her hair. Azusa scanned the fridge, her eyes landing on the carefully organized stack of healthy snacks that she prepared for situations specifically like this one. If anything positive had come out of the shift in her parent’s attitudes, their new focus on success had practically forced her to become a more responsible and serious person, in both her school life and daily life. The only child of the Nakano family couldn’t afford to become a failure, after all. Brown eyes narrowed at the options in front of them, only for the fridge to end up closed with no selection made. A search of the pantry produced similar results. Slightly frustrated, Azusa wandered back towards her room on the second floor of the house.

_Not even food sounds good right now. I wonder what the others are up to… NO! Stop thinking about it! Damn it, Azusa, focus! Homework! You have homework to do! _

Azusa practically threw herself into her room. Aside from the living room, it was the only room in the house that even implied someone lived there. Her bed took up the far corner of the room by a large window, posters of various musicians hanging over it. Her guitar lay dormant on a stand in the adjacent corner next to some amps, watching over the nearby walk-in closet and nightstand with silent authority. Closest to the door was Azusa’s desk and dresser, covered in school materials and various forms of personal effects. Taking inspiration from seeing Yui’s room, Azusa had stuck pictures of her and her friends on the wall above her desk, which her parents probably would object to if they ever bothered to enter her room. Littered over the plain rug in the center of the room were crumpled and torn pieces of paper, a testament to Azusa’s attempts at homework earlier in the morning. With a huff, Azusa planted herself in her chair, sending it rolling a bit with the force.

Normally, this was the part where Azusa resolved to finish her homework, took the time to double check her work, then proceeded to complete the various maintenance chores around the house and squeeze in a bit of guitar practice before her Sunday ended. What actually happened was several minutes of the kouhai staring listlessly at the indomitable mountain that was the task in front of her. Though she had taken a seat, the prospect of actually trying to complete the homework she had already thrown several fruitless hours into had shattered her resolve. She could feel her foe mocking her from its perch on her desk. “Shut up. I’ll take care of you when I feel like it,” she retorted lamely.

The guitarist ran a hand through her hair, as if the answer to her issue was hidden there somehow. Her guitar was beckoning her from the other side of the room. Plenty of personal jam or practice sessions had pulled Azusa out of a rut in her homework, but the prospect of playing alone now somehow bothered her. If she was going to play, she wanted to play with her band, a plan that was currently impossible to carry out.

_I shouldn’t be so dependent on them. They’re my dear friends and my bandmates, but I can’t just shut down because we’re going our separate ways eventually. I have to pull myself together. I have to be strong. They’re all so strong. One day of being open with each other, and they can pretend nothing happened. _

Azusa glanced up at a picture of herself and Yui, taken shortly after their first summer training camp. Yui had her kouhai in a fierce hug from behind, which had badly startled the tanned girl and caused her to make an embarrassing expression that Yui fondly referred to as “the cutest Azu-nyan face the world has ever seen”. Had Yui not put that picture on Azusa’s wall herself, Azusa would have burned it. She smiled ruefully to herself. Saying no to her senpai’s often unreasonable demands had only gotten more difficult as they got to know each other. A sneaking suspicion within her believed that the other band members found themselves in a similar situation with the guitarist, not that it was necessarily a bad thing.

_I’m so far behind, Yui-senpai. I’m not sure if I can keep up with you or the others. _

“Why can’t I reach you, senpai?” Azusa asked the picture.

The picture smiled knowingly back at her. “You always make me smile, even when you’re being an idiot. You… you’re the main reason I couldn’t leave this band last year. So tell me, why couldn’t I approach you or the others yesterday?”

Though she was no longer paralyzed by her own thoughts, Azusa’s mind wouldn’t stop replaying the moment she had seen her senpais truly happy for the first time since the festival. No matter what she tried to do that morning, from homework to watching television, she couldn’t focus on anything but what she’d seen. In the moment, she hadn’t found it in herself to join them, going as far as to lie about an illness to miss practice. Her own behavior befuddled her. She had made it very clear to herself that she wanted to spend more time with the club the way it was, before reality struck. Thus, her behavior was irrational. Everything she had wanted had been standing right in front of her that morning, but she had done nothing.

_Am I losing it? I can’t even focus on simple homework today. Why can’t I just be happy with them? What am I missing? It hurts to not be around them. I shouldn’t be avoiding them like this, but I…_

“I can’t face them like this…” Azusa muttered.

_Nothing makes sense. Until I can work out exactly what’s still bothering me, I can’t drag them back down to how they were before. That’s unfair to everyone. There’s no point in sharing emotions I don’t understand myself. _

Azusa’s chair turned slowly by her own power. It came to rest facing away from the desk, towards a dormant guitar. The oppressive aura it gave off, even from across the room, sent a shiver down the black-haired girl’s spine. Her hands clenched into fists, and she fought to keep tears of frustration from her eyes. She was still being ridiculous. As far as she could tell, she had done exactly what her sensei had told her to do, and nothing had changed. The hole in her heart that had opened up when the idea of losing her closest friends was introduced wasn’t sealed. The idea of being without Mio’s steadfast guidance, Ritsu’s brash yet charming leadership, or Tsumugi’s kind encouragement created an unsolvable issue in her head.

_Yui-senpai is an even larger issue. She’s so easy to upset about things like this. After yesterday, actually leaving the others might break her heart. I can’t let that happen. I have to somehow fix this myself, so I can keep Yui-senpai’s feelings intact… Wait wait wait._

Like the reels on a mixtape, Azusa’s thoughts rewound the last ten seconds and played them again. She stood up straight from her chair, the reactive force sending paper balls rolling around the ground. The eyes of her senpais in her pictures felt like they were boring into her.

_When did this become about Yui-senpai? _

In response, her phone went off, buzzing rapidly from its place on her nightstand. Azusa glanced at the interruption with little interest. Most of her thoughts were on her mental slip just a few seconds ago. Despite her frazzled state, she still managed to walk over to the nightstand and pick up her phone, habit putting her on autopilot. Her parents would find some reason to be furious if they found out she ignored their call. She read the name on the vibrating communicator: _Ui Hirasawa_

The name awoke Azusa’s curiosity. She had been under the impression Ui didn’t want to talk to her after yesterday’s interaction, or rather that she had made herself out to be unwilling to talk. Taking a brief moment to compose herself, Azusa answered the call. “Hello?”

“Azusa-chan? It’s me, Ui,” came the hushed voice on the other end of the line.

Intrigue gripped the black-haired girl. “Ui-chan? Is something wrong? Why are you whispering?”

“Listen, have you spoken to Onee-chan today?” Ui asked, a hint of panic now entering her whisper.

All the interest Azusa had built up within herself deflated, and she had to stop herself from sighing rudely. Of course Ui was concerned about something Yui-related. Sadly for Ui, Azusa wasn’t quite in the mood to be on the receiving end of her friend’s concerns at the moment. “I didn’t make Yui-senpai cry yesterday, if that’s what you’re getting at. Haven’t we been over this?”

Somehow, Azusa could feel Ui shaking her head at her through the phone. “No, that’s not it! I went to wake Onee-chan up this morning, and she was gone! She won’t even answer my calls! I don’t know where she is, but she took Giita with her. I thought she might have gone to see you or the others. Please, have you heard anything?”

Azusa walked back to and sat down in her chair, trying to process what she was hearing. Yui wandering off for no reason was certainly in character for the airhead, but not responding to her sister’s calls wasn’t. “When did you last see her?” she asked, her brain working overtime.

“After dinner last night,” Ui responded immediately. “She said she was going to practice really late and asked me not to bother her, so I left her alone instead of making sure she went to sleep like I normally do. I should have checked on her!” As she spoke, the panic in Ui’s voice became more pronounced.

“Okay, okay, calm down Ui-chan,” Azusa spoke frantically. “Listen, Yui-senpai is fine. I’m sure she just went for a walk or something. I mean, what reason would she have to just disappear on you like that?”

Silence on the other end. Azusa could feel the concern Ui had rubbing off on her the longer nobody spoke. Her own explanation felt holey as she mused over all the horrible things that could happen to someone like Yui if she was left to her own devices for too long. “Ui-chan? Hello? You’re worrying me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ui muttered, still keeping her voice low. “Look, I can’t really talk about this right now. They think she’s still sleeping, and I have to keep up appearances. If it weren’t for that, I’d be looking for her myself. If you happen to hear from Onee-chan, could you please let me know?”

“Of course,” Azusa replied immediately. “Wait, they? Who’s they?”

“Yes, right, thank you, I’ll talk to you soon bye!” The words tumbled out in a jumbled manner that was distinctly unlike Ui before the line died.

Azusa stared at her silent phone, questions she had no answers for running through her mind. Her own concerns could wait, at least until she was certain that Yui was alright. Ui had sounded less composed than Azusa had ever heard the younger Hirasawa sister. She forgot sometimes how close Ui and Yui were, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy that popped up with the thought. _Don’t think like that. What do you have to be jealous about? Yui-senpai has been missing since last night, and she won’t answer Ui-chan’s calls. This isn’t my fault is it? No, there’s no way. Who’s the they Ui-chan mentioned? Maybe the others know something…_

It was tempting to call Mio, Ritsu, or Tsumugi to find out if they had heard from their fifth member, but Azusa decided to leave that task to Ui. She couldn’t help but wonder just how much she was overthinking things. Her problems felt less real when facing a concrete issue like her senpai’s stranger than normal behavior. With her phone still open to her contacts, Azusa’s eyes drifted to the name above the girl who had just called her. It was possible that Yui simply didn’t want to be disturbed. Her own call certainly couldn’t be expected to go through when several of Ui’s had failed. Azusa shut her phone, leaning back in her chair. From her new position, she could see an upside-down version of the infernal picture her senpai had put up. The different perspective made the scene look even wilder than it already was.

“You know you’re worrying us, right Yui-senpai?”

In response, the front doorbell rang. Azusa leapt out of her seat, startled by the continuation of things responding to her questions. Feeling a bit too much like Mio, Azusa made her way downstairs and down the hall to the front door. In the process of getting to the door, the doorbell sounded out three more times, giving Azusa a strong, hopeful idea of who had interrupted her solitude. A quick look through the door’s peephole confirmed her suspicions. Yui Hirasawa was waiting eagerly outside her front door, her guitar slung over her back and a sparkle in her eyes. The senior was wearing her school uniform on a Sunday, which made Azusa send a silent apology to Ui for the extra laundry work her sister was creating. _Did she leave home without changing yesterday? What are you thinking, Yui-senpai?_

Concern overriding common sense, Azusa practically flung the door open. Yui beamed when she saw the kouhai staring at her like she was a mirage. “Azu-nyan!”

“Yui-senpai, Wha- Nya!”

Azusa generally considered herself to be more than capable of handling the affectionate assaults of her senpai on any given day. Fortunately for Yui, Azusa often found herself distracted or mentally unprepared for one reason or another when Yui’s love struck, such as the particular moment when Azusa opened the door that morning. Yui wrapped Azusa firmly in an embrace, almost lifting the kouhai up in the air and pinning her arms to her sides. Indignation was the first feeling that flared up inside the black-haired girl, but she couldn’t translate her emotions into action. Yui didn’t seem to mind her kouhai’s lack of response, squeezing Azusa for everything she was worth. Eventually, Azusa accepted the gesture. Nobody was watching, after all.

“We missed you yesterday! Are you feeling better?” Yui mercifully pulled away and appraised her junior, looking for signs of malaise.

Remembering what she had told the club advisor yesterday, Azusa managed to cough into her hand unconvincingly. “Right, uh, I had a headache from running in the cold yesterday morning.”

Yui tilted her head to one side. Azusa started kicked herself for telling such a terrible lie until Yui nodded in complete understanding. “That makes sense. I woke up with a headache after I took a nap in class yesterday. Wait, do you think I’m sick too, Azu-nyan?!”

Azusa couldn’t help rolling her eyes as a smile appeared on her face, privately marking one of the few times she was grateful for her senpai’s airheaded nature. “I think you’ll be fine, Yui-senpai. More importantly, what are you doing here? Why are you wearing your school uniform?”

The brunette fell silent. Her carefree mirth scattered to the cold morning wind. She fidgeted from foot to foot, suddenly uncertain of where she stood. Azusa’s smile disappeared as she watched her senpai’s façade fall apart. Yui looked past Azusa at the empty house behind her, as if she expected something to jump out at her.

“I’m the only one here today,” Azusa explained tentatively, trying to predict what her senpai was thinking.

It didn’t appear as if Yui was listening. HTT’s lead guitarist moved her gaze to Azusa, appraising her. Azusa felt herself shrink a little. Something about the look she was receiving unnerved her. The way Yui was carrying herself right now, some unseen trouble weighing down her thoughts and actions, was too foreign to the image of Yui in Azusa’s mind. _What happened to you, Yui-senpai? _

Decisions were made in Yui’s head as Azusa thought, and she gave Azusa a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I just wanted to make sure Azu-nyan was feeling alright. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, ne?”

As Yui turned abruptly to leave, her phone went off in her pocket. Startled, Yui struggled momentarily to shut her phone off without even trying to answer it. She turned back to her kouhai and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’ve been getting spam calls all day.”

“Yui-senpai, please tell me why you’re ignoring Ui-chan. She’s really worried about you.” The words came out of Azusa’s mouth before she could think of a tactful approach.

Yui pouted angrily. “I’m not ignoring Ui! Don’t even suggest that! I’m ignoring mom and dad!” The brunette covered her mouth in shock, but she was too late.

The concern Azusa felt after Ui’s phone call returned in full force. “Your parents are home?” she guessed tentatively.

Instantly, Yui’s expressionless gaze reappeared. Her eyes were a mirror with no reflection. “Probably.” Yui responded simply.

Seeing the look for a third time, Azusa started to recognize a pattern. _She’s…hiding something. That look means she’s somewhere else, somewhere nobody can reach her. Are we doing the same thing? No, this is different. Yui-senpai doesn’t just act like this for dumb reasons like mine. _

As she thought, Azusa noticed her senpai’s appearance for the first time. Her hair was even more disheveled than normal, and her uniform was littered with wrinkles and dirty patches all over it. More concerning was the distinctly pink tint to her nose and cheeks that indicated her senpai was much colder than she was letting on. “Come inside, Yui-senpai,” Azusa ordered.

Yui blinked, a bit of her usual self returning. “Azu-nyan, I-“ she started to speak, only to be interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach.

The senior blushed at the slip, and Azusa’s determination was emboldened. “Don’t even start, Yui-senpai. I don’t know where you’ve been all night, but I’m not letting you leave until you clean yourself up and tell me what’s going on. Got it?” For good measure, Azusa jabbed a finger at her senpai.

Gears turned in Yui’s head. “Azu-nyan’s worried about me?” she mumbled to herself.

Azusa struggled not to roll her eyes again. “Of course I am. Geez, do you have any idea how difficult you can be sometimes? Now come inside. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

For a tense moment, Yui remained silent. Azusa suppressed a shiver as the cold weather punished her lack of proper outer wear.

“I can take care of myself,” Yui finally retorted, though her tone was anything but confident.

“I’m not saying you can’t, Yui-senpai,” Azusa backpedaled. “I’m asking you to let me help you. Please?”

Indecision danced over Yui’s features. Eventually, however, she settled on a warm smile. “Ok. I’ll go take a bath then, if that’s alright. Do you have any food? Your hair looks pretty like that, by the way,” she complemented, moving past the kouhai and into the house, bubbling to herself about baths and food.

Meanwhile, said kouhai was stuck in her doorway, trying to process everything that had just been thrown at her while a blush took over her cheeks. Her hand remained pointed outwards towards what was now empty space_. _She had succeeded in her objective, but at the same time she felt like she hadn’t done anything at all. Yui was like a tornado, unpredictable and unstoppable by any human means. If she didn’t actually want to come inside Azusa’s house, the younger girl wasn’t sure anything she said would change her senpai’s mind. Azusa found it in herself to turn around and watch as her senpai finished removing her shoes and skipped into the dark home, not a care in the world. All of her uncertainty had vanished, leaving behind the Yui that Azusa recognized clearly. This sight only confused Azusa’s already taxed mind, and she sighed to herself as she reentered her own home. Whatever was going on, the answers she wanted certainly weren’t going to appear in front of her if she stood around freezing to death.

* * *

Some 20 minutes or so later, Azusa found herself finishing her impromptu tea and snack preparations. After contacting Ui and swearing up and down that Yui would be brought home as soon as humanly possible, Azusa had decided to make sure her senpai would have the minimum number of excuses not to discuss where she had been for the past 12 hours. The food wasn’t anything special, composed of assorted fruits like sliced apples and strawberries her parents had left behind for snacking purposes hastily arranged in a pleasing manner, but she was rather proud of the tea. While she wasn’t on the same level as Tsumugi, Azusa had picked up some tips on proper tea preparation from watching her mother entertain guests. Azusa’s own guest was supposedly upstairs, making use of the bathroom shower across the hall from Azusa’s room to clean herself up.

_Okay, game plan time Nakano: first, make sure she eats something and that she’s cleaned up. Then, get her to explain where she’s been and why she’s avoiding her parents. Finally, get her home before Ui kills you for keeping her here so long. Don’t think about Yui-senpai using your shower or wearing your clothes. Forget about her calling your hair pretty- _The junior guitarist caught herself blushing again. _Get serious, Nakano. Your first priority is figuring out what the hell’s going on with Yui-senpai. This is no time to act your age. _

Determined, Azusa carried her products up towards her room where she had instructed her senpai to meet her. The living room was too distracting for the senpai and every other room felt like it wanted to crush Azusa’s soul. Her parents would likely ground her for months if they found out she was eating somewhere other than the dining room, let alone with a guest. Somehow, the thought made her smirk, as if her sudden decision to rebel against authority meant something. Easing the door to her room open, Azusa was surprised to see her senpai sprawled out on her bed, completely passed out. She was still clad in her uniform, though she had the sense to set her guitar down next to Azusa’s before crashing. Azusa sighed and carefully set the tray down on her desk. _I guess she couldn’t make it to the shower. In retrospect, I should have predicted this. Geez, and she’s totally messing up my bed. I should probably wake her. Ui won’t wait all day._

It wasn’t unusual for Yui to suddenly pass out due to lack of energy, a tactic that had gotten the slacker out of more than one practice session, but what Azusa was witnessing now seemed more fitful. Yui’s arms and legs were splayed out in all directions, her face contorted in concern. “Nnnh… Azusa…don’t…” she muttered uneasily.

Azusa stiffened. Yui was dreaming unpleasantly about her. Her doubt multiplied upon itself. Before she could make a decision on what to do, however, Yui’s eyes snapped open. Her nose sniffed the air hungrily, and her gaze immediately focused on the tea Azusa had brought in. With speed Azusa could barely follow, Yui had snatched up the tea from the platter and was sipping it greedily. In the time that it took Azusa to register that she was down one teacup, Yui was finished with her drink. “Ahhh. Thanks, Azu-nyan! I feel a lot better now! Ooh, and you brought snacks? You’re the best Azu-nyan!”

Unprepared for the flattery, Azusa looked down to hide the small reddening of her cheeks. “Oh, I, uh just threw some stuff I had lying around together. I know it’s not the sweets you like, but it’s all I could find, so- ”

“Are you kidding?” Yui interrupted. “Fruit is the sweetest sweet there is! Strawberries are the heart of every dessert they’re in! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my lecture on the importance of fruit to sweets? This knowledge is important for the success of our band!”

Yui continued to rant about the usefulness of fruit to preparing sweets, but it became impossible to tell what she was saying as she continued to down fruit and tea with reckless abandon. Azusa found herself nibbling on an apple slice in her chair while her senpai continued on her tangent, unable and unwilling to stop her. Seeing Yui-senpai excited, even over something stupid like fruit, relieved her greatly, to the point that she was willing to overlook the lack of courtesy her senpai had to sleep on her bed with dirty clothes. Of course, the logical side of her refused to let her forget that she still had a job to do. As Yui polished off the fruit and thanked Azusa profusely, the younger girl decided to get to the point. “Yui-senpai, if you’re feeling a bit better, can we talk about why you really came here?”

“I wanted to check on you, Azu-nyan,” Yui responded bluntly, shoving the entire last strawberry into her mouth.

“Even so, you mentioned something about your parents earlier,” Azusa carefully prompted.

As she had suspected, Yui chose that moment to withdraw from the conversation. She retreated from her spot leaning against Azusa’s desk to the kouhai’s bed, lying down lazily with her feet hanging off the edge. “I’m not very good at hiding things,” she spoke to nobody in particular. “But I’m not very good at explaining them either. Azu-nyan, I don’t know what to do.”

Until Yui glanced her way, Azusa didn’t realize that she was supposed to provide some sort of solution. “Well, um, you could start by telling my why you’re avoiding your parents,” she suggested.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why does that matter? Talking about things can help.” Azusa decided to omit the fact that she was guilty of refusing to talk about her concerns herself. Different things worked for different people, she reasoned.

Yui blinked, surprised. “If I tell you I’m worried but you don’t understand why, you’ll just get worried too. That’d be bad for both of us.”

Azusa stood up from her chair, leaving the tea behind on her desk, and crossed her arms stubbornly. Yui watched the younger girl’s movements with all of her limited attention. “We’re bandmates, Yui-senpai. I can’t just ignore it when you’re upset about something like this.”

“You’re hiding things too, though, aren’t you Azu-nyan?” Yui accused in the most innocent way possible.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Azusa stammered, caught off guard.

“Azu-nyan, you’re not sick. I know I’m not very observant, but I know what a sick person looks like.”

The bluntness in Yui’s tone only added to the guilt gripping the younger guitarist. _Damn it. If even Yui-senpai noticed, the others definitely will too. But I’m not ready to talk about this. I don’t even know how I feel. I’ll just mess things up. _

In the silence that followed, Yui’s gaze wandered to the ceiling, her legs swinging idly while she waited for her kouhai to gather her thoughts. This quickly grew boring for the senpai. “Ne, Azu-nyan?”

“Hmm?” Azusa responded, not really listening.

“Let’s play together.”

The younger girl tilted her head, returning her attention to reality. “Huh? Why?”

Yui sat up, a bright smile adorning her face. “Because it’s fun!” she exclaimed jovially.

Azusa sighed. Keeping up with Yui’s changes in attitude was a full-time job. “Yui-senpai, I told Ui-chan I’d send you home as soon as possible. You and I both know what’ll happen if I don’t do that. Besides, when have you ever been enthusiastic about practicing?” Azusa could feel Ui’s bloodlust all over again at the thought of withholding Yui from her sister for any reason, and she shivered.

The implication was completely lost on the senpai, who had already sat up and started removing her guitar from its case. She tuned her instrument while Azusa looked on, watching her point be missed completely. “I said play, not practice, Azu-nyan. Come on, let’s play!”

As far as Azusa could tell, there wasn’t a difference between the two words, but Yui seemed to think otherwise. Frustration overtook the kouhai. “Yui-senpai, we don’t have time for this. Please, can you listen to me seriously for once?”

“But I am,” Yui responded indignantly, standing up with a tuned Giita in hand. “I can’t not listen seriously when I’m playing, so let’s play something!”

From the other side of the room, Azusa could feel her own guitar calling to her once more. In spite of her time crunch, she found herself compelled to listen to Yui’s argument. She had wanted to play with her band, after all. “Ugh, fine,” she acquiesced. “But after we play for a bit, you need to explain yourself and go home, got it?”

“Yay! Of course, Azu-nyan!” Yui agreed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Though her rational side was screaming at her that she was wasting time right now, Azusa couldn’t help but get a little excited as she tuned and plugged in her guitar. It had been a while since it was just her and Yui playing together. Despite the girl’s airheaded nature, Azusa knew firsthand just how impressively her senpai could play when she felt like it. Azusa had years of experience on her senpai, but the brunette had incredible raw talent and perfect pitch that allowed her to develop her skills at an unfathomably fast rate. Yui could even memorize how to play a song just by watching it being performed once, though reading sheet music was still beyond her despite three years of playing. Were it not for Yui’s lack of motivation, she’d have been able to play circles around her junior by this point. Preparations blew by almost instantly. With different degrees of smiles on their faces, Yui and Azusa began to play together. Yui stood near the bed while Azusa leaned casually against her closet door, waiting for her senpai to start playing whatever she wanted so she could follow along. What they actually played wasn’t that important to the kouhai, so long as they played it together. That was what she had gone into the session thinking, at least.

_Something is very wrong here. _

Azusa blinked, and she was standing outside of Sakuragaoka High. The sky was a melancholy grey, but there was nothing unusual about the school itself. When she had started playing, she had only been trying to match whatever chords Yui had selected. Indeed, she could still feel herself running along after her senpai in reality.

_But then, where is Yui-senpai? _

She could hear the sound of her senpai’s music, echoing from inside the school and from a few feet away from her. The dual images her mind was creating hurt her head, and she stopped playing. Instantly, she was only in her room, out of breath. Yui continued to strum various chords idly from her position over Azusa’s bed, as if nothing had happened. Her eyes were closed, a far-off expression claiming her features. Azusa stared for a moment, first at Yui and then at her own idle hands. Slowly, fists formed._ She’s not even playing a song, and I can’t even focus enough to follow her lead. Why can’t I play normally?!_

As if sensing the growing hostility in the room, Yui’s pace slowed. Azusa turned her attention back to her senpai, ears perked in curiosity. Though she had slowed down, Yui’s choice in sounds was still all over the place. Azusa could only assume that Yui wasn’t even thinking about what she was playing, despite the final product’s coherence. _Wait, is that what she’s trying to say? Not to think about it? Can I even do that? _

Very little deliberation was needed. Azusa stood up straight, making a decisive choice for the first time that day. _I should at least try. No, I have to do this. I’m not going to let Yui-senpai get away with trying to distract me like this. I’m going to get to the heart of the problem, no matter what._

Slowly, with much more hesitation than Azusa normally put into her performances, Azusa closed her eyes and let the sound of Yui’s guitar guide her fingers. Once more, she found herself standing in front of her high school. Her clothes hadn’t changed, but there wasn’t anyone around to notice her failure to meet dress code. She could still hear Yui’s ethereal song, caught by the wind blowing through the empty halls and spreading around the deserted complex. Azusa tightened her own focus, straining to match the tone of her senpai with her own playing. As she did, her feet began to move on their own. She searched every room of the first floor of the school, then did the same with the second, but her senpai didn’t appear. Every time she felt herself getting close, Yui would change some aspect of her tune, and Azusa would find herself right back where she started. She vaguely noticed that the sun was moving across the grey sky little by little as she continued to find herself entering empty rooms that inevitably lead back to the entrance of the high school. The frequent disappointment and denial in the face of success only emboldened Azusa’s efforts. If Yui wanted to be chased down, wanted to play games with her, then Azusa was going to win.

Though victory was Azusa’s stated mission, a quiet part of her was deeply enjoying herself. Being able to fill her sterile house with the sound of two guitarists playing together was dragging out sentimentality within the younger girl she didn’t realize she still had. In addition to that, practicing with her band members, and especially her fellow guitarist, provided Azusa with an unmistakable feeling of joy. The internal struggle she had been having on whether or not to continue playing with the band felt far off and foolish. Eventually, however, she found herself standing in front of the entrance to the Light Music Club’s room. Giita’s sound was clearer than it had ever been, and Azusa finally recognized what Yui had settled on playing.

A small smile found its way back onto Azusa’s face. She knew that Yui (with lots of Ui’s help) had written this song for her sister. More importantly, it was the last song HTT had ever performed on stage. Feeling confident in her song deduction, she shifted her tone to the lead guitar part of U&I and opened the door. The two sounds collided each other in the open air between the two girls and melded into one voice. Azusa looked across the room to see Yui lazily laying across the tea time table, in almost exactly the same way Azusa had found her in her own room. Yui glanced up when her kouhai arrived, taking in the sight of the girl with the sort of look a dog would give a particularly interesting toy. Unlike the Yui Azusa had observed over the past few days, the one looking at her now was doing nothing to mask her emotions. _Well, of course she isn’t. You can’t mask your feelings when you play. Maybe that’s what she was after this whole time. Or she just felt like playing guitar. Both are equally likely with Yui-senpai._

Yui stood up, her dirty school uniform contrasting poorly with the too-pristine club room. In a strange way, the room had a similar feel to Azusa that her own home did, and she forced herself to focus on her senpai, shaking off the uneasy tension rising within her.

“You’re hiding from me, Azu-nyannnn,” Yui declared to the club room.

Her tone was whining, yet assertive. Every strum of her guitar was hitched, offering a question that demanded a response. Thinking on it, Yui had been playing like that from the beginning, posing a challenge for Azusa to identify and follow her tone, long before she had settled on this particular song. Azusa responded in kind. _Who’s hiding from who? You’re the one who kept changing the rhythm._

Yui looked up from the table, a playful glint in her eyes. Azusa was confused for a moment, but then she remembered what she had started playing. “Why settle on U&I?” she asked, curious.

_“I spent a lot of time on this song.” _

Yui hadn’t actually said those words, in Azusa’s room or in the club room. Azusa knew her senpai well enough to be able to tell when Yui had actually practiced a piece on her own time. Of course, none of their preparation seemed to matter when a concert was going on, as things just seemed to click whenever the curtain rose. What startled Azusa now was how perfectly Yui was playing the rhythm section of the song, the part she would have had no reason to learn. She had only started playing the lead section because the rhythm section was taken. Embarrassment rushed through Azusa as the role reversal was finally noticed, lasting until reality struck her.

“Wait, don’t change the subject,” she demanded, the order given by own playing increasing in volume. “I still want you to explain why you came here today.”

Yui wandered over to the whiteboard, a marker appearing in her hand. “I’d like to talk too, but I don’t think you’re listening, ne, Azu-nyan?” As she spoke, she wrote ‘Listen!’ on the club room white board in english.

_Listen? I’ve been doing nothing but listening since we started playing! How does she think we can play together if I’m not listening to her? _

As her frustration increased, Azusa found her focus beginning to slip. Her strumming became a fraction of a second off, her fingers slipping slightly from their intended positions. The classroom around her began to fade from Azusa’s vision once more as she dropped to her knees, hands clutching her sides. Desperately, Azusa forced herself to reclaim her focus. _Relax. You have to see this through. You have to win._

The world began to settle once more. Yui watched her kouhai struggle without offering assistance. When Azusa managed to shakily stand up again, playing the lead guitar part properly, Yui smiled mysteriously. Azusa stared at her senpai’s smile that failed to reach her eyes.

_So this is how she feels about this song? Is that it? But why? What does this have to do with why she’s here? _

“I’m sorry, Azu-nyan,” Yui whispered.

Before Azusa could ask what for, Yui was on top of her. Without giving her kouhai time to react, Yui had switched to the lead part of U&I. Both girls were now playing the exact same piece, but it was obvious who was more comfortable with their role. While Azusa only learned the lead part in her spare time, as a way to whittle away the hours until her senpais finished their own festival preparations, the part was second nature to Yui. It was Yui’s child, and Azusa had only adopted it. In the classroom, Yui shoved Azusa backwards, her body flying through the still open door and colliding with the floor just outside the club room. The impact made a sickening sound with the ground, but Azusa didn’t feel any pain. Dazed but somehow unharmed, Azusa could only continue playing her part idly, unable even to slip into the rhythm guitar part. Something told her that if she backed down now, she’d never figure out the truth. Yui apparently took this as a challenge. She strode out of the room and picked up her kouhai by the collar, expressionless eyes and warm smile intact.

“Yui-senpai…” Azusa muttered, trying to process the aggressive tone her senpai had adopted.

Without saying anything, Yui kneed Azusa in the stomach with her sound. Azusa doubled over, Yui releasing her kouhai so she could crumple back to the floor in nonexistent pain. The last time Azusa had been so taken aback by a performance was the first time she had heard HTT playing almost two years ago. Of course, that performance had been breathtaking for completely different, much less violent reasons. Azusa’s earlier increase in volume meant nothing in the face of the raw frustration Yui was putting into her performance. Her mind began to grow hazy once more, her guitar playing by muscle memory alone.

_Why… why is she so angry? This isn’t Yui-senpai. Yui-senpai doesn’t get angry like this. Yui-senpai doesn’t get sad. Yui-senpai is supposed to be an airhead. Yui-senpai is Yui-senpai. _

As Azusa continued to play without thought, her form in the classroom motionless on the floor, Yui’s smile changed into a frown. Her whole body started to quiver slightly. She looked down at her fallen kouhai. The sound of Giita filled every one of Azusa’s senses. The message was clear: “_Get out of my way.” _

Years of following the orders of her superiors begged Azusa to take over her motor functions and switch parts. _Yes, that’s what I should do, isn’t it? I’m getting in Yui-senpai’s way. That’s how it always is. I try to help the band improve or feel better, and I end up getting in the way. Is this what Yui-senpai is trying to say?_

Yui’s fist raised once more. Azusa watched it curiously, as if its purpose was foreign to her. Mixed feelings ran through her. _Yui-senpai is really angry, huh? She’s trying so hard to force me away. I don’t think I can keep up much longer. But… this is what I wanted, isn’t it? To stay out of everyone’s way? _

“No…” Azusa muttered to herself. “That isn’t what I want.”

Azusa continued to play. She was a single raincloud in a raging storm, but she refused to let her impact be ignored. Yui didn’t let up, her guitar demanding that Azusa move to the other role, denying other sounds besides itself. Despite its cries, Azusa continued to play. The two were locked in a stalemate, the noise between them caught between an unmistakably beautiful duet where both players were perfectly in sync and a violent clashing of wills where each side refused to acknowledge the other. As the kouhai stood up, she let her guitar’s answer be heard by the only person who could still hear her.

_“Make me move.” _

The music died. Azusa didn’t realize it in the moment, but she had stopped playing at the exact time that Yui had, some unspoken agreement reached between them. Almost instantly, the world that the two had created over the course of their practice unraveled completely. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed Azusa, and she felt her legs give way. As the floor rose to meet her, she found herself steadied by a pair of arms. Yui prevented her kouhai from falling over, Giita lying abandoned on Azusa’s bed. Without Azusa really noticing, the two ended up sitting on the floor across from each other, Azusa’s guitar the only thing between them. Though Yui appeared to be alright, the transition was evidently much more jarring for the younger girl, who stared blankly into her senpai’s eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears.

“Um… Azusa? Look, I’m really sorry. I thought- no, that doesn’t matter. I’m being a terrible senpai. I shouldn’t have made you play with me,” Yui apologized profusely with clear concern over Azusa’s behavior.

Time moved by in slow motion. Azusa forced herself to think about something, anything to get herself completely back to reality. _You have pretty eyes, Yui-senpai. You shouldn’t be crying. _

Yui suddenly leaned back from Azusa, a startled blush appearing on her face. The jarring reaction brought Azusa into the present. “Did I just say that out loud?” she asked, embarrassment overtaking her.

For a moment, the room was frozen. Azusa didn’t dare even think, her own thoughts apparently not as private as she had expected. Suddenly, Yui’s grateful smile broke the stalemate, melting all the tension that had existed in the room minutes ago. “Ehehe, yeah,” Yui giggled, drying her eyes. “You’re really sweet, Azu-nyan. Like cake!”

Luckily for Azusa, she was too out of sorts to be overly concerned about her dignity. All she could focus on was the need to rest, the need to lie down in her bed and sleep for a week. Azusa forced herself to stand up, using her poor guitar as a balance. She immediately wobbled, and Yui reacted just as quickly, standing to steady her kouhai. “Azu-nyan, you need to sit down. You pushed yourself too hard trying to keep up with me. It’s my fault.”

“No…” Azusa growled. “Well, yes, it’s your fault, but it’s also my fault. I didn’t have to try to keep up with you. And I did it because I wanted to, so don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Without a response, Yui guided Azusa over to her bed, the kouhai lacking the energy to complain about being coddled. She had never felt so drained by a performance, not even during the live shows. Her eyes caught the glare of the sun, and she shielded them with her free hand. _Wait, the glare of the sun?_

Azusa whipped her head over towards her alarm clock, startling the girl supporting her. The time read 2:18 PM. _We must have been playing non-stop for hours… No wonder I’m so tired. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it. But Yui-senpai appears to be fine. That’s good. Strange, but good. _

Once Yui had helped Azusa sit while leaning against the back of the bedframe, she took a position near the foot of the bed, lying against the bedpost. Neither one of them spoke for a few minutes. Azusa was still trying to fully regain her bearings, and Yui was refusing to look at her kouhai, guilt written all over her face. Finally, Yui decided to break the silence. “I wanted my parents to come to our last performance,” she admitted quietly.

Azusa looked down at her senpai. “All that anger over that?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s just like you’ve been saying,” Yui rationalized. “I’m the klutzy airhead of an older sister that can’t take care of herself. But… I thought if they could see me perform with you all, just once, then maybe…” Yui trailed off, hands forming fists.

“Maybe what? You don’t have to constantly prove yourself to them. At least your parents bothered to show interest in showing up. At least they care enough to wonder where you are right now.” Azusa was surprised at the bitterness in her own tone, and she looked away so she couldn’t see Yui’s reaction.

“Oh… I guess so.” The two fell into silence once more.

The longer nobody spoke, the worse Azusa felt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her senpai’s feelings like this, right after she finally decided to open up. “I had fun today, you know,” the black-haired girl admitted, not quite sure what else to say.

“Really?” Yui asked suspiciously.

Forcing herself to meet Yui’s questioning gaze, Azusa nodded sincerely. “Yeah. I love playing with you and the others.”

“Me too!” Yui beamed at her kouhai, before a more somber expression took over. “You know, when you didn’t show up yesterday, and I saw you weren’t sick today, and then after what just happened, I was, um, worried that you weren’t coming back.”

“Huh? That’s dumb. Of course I’m going to come back. I just needed… time to think.”

Hope glittered in Yui’s eyes. “So you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Azusa thought for a moment. None of her questions were really answered. She wasn’t entirely certain that she still wouldn’t bring everyone down. Sure, she had been distracted by Yui’s problem, but her mood in a more normal setting was an entirely different matter altogether. Even with all that in mind, looking at Yui’s pleading face was too much for Azusa to deny. “Yes, of course, Yui-senpai.”

Yui grinned from ear to ear. She shot up from her seat on the ground and dove at her kouhai. “Yay! I love you Azu-nyan!”

Before Azusa could even try to resist, Yui was squeezing the life out of her. “S-senpai… need… air…”

When Yui finally let go, it was all Azusa could do to keep her vision from swaying. Her senpai’s earlier comment was completely forgotten in Azusa’s struggle to remain conscious, a fact she didn’t even remember how fortunate she was for forgetting. “Yui-senpai, we’ve been over this. You can’t just grab people like that.”

“Don’t worry Azu-nyan, it’s just for you!” Yui beamed sweetly.

Azusa sighed, mourning the death of her point. At least Yui appeared to be back to normal. She forced herself to stand up and face her senpai, ignoring the vertigo that assaulted her body. Her job wasn’t done yet. “Promise me you’ll go home and talk things over with your parents, Yui-senpai.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want me to do, I will,” Yui agreed easily.

A breath Azusa didn’t realize she had been holding left her. She hadn’t expected to have such an easy time convincing her senpai to go home, especially after what she had said. “Really?” she asked, not believing her luck.

“Yeah, really. I thought about it, and you’re right. I’m overreacting. I should be facing problems head on, like Sawa-chan said. I’ll go apologize to them for making them worry, I promise.”

“And to Ui,” Azusa added.

Suddenly, both girls exchanged a look of shock and horror as the same thought ran through them.

_Ui’s going to kill me. _

Both girls checked their phones. Combined, there were a total of 8 missed calls and 15 text messages. “Your sister really cares about you,” was all Azusa could think to comment.

Yui smiled fondly. “Maybe a little too much sometimes. Reminds me of you, Azu-nyan.”

Azusa took a second to realize that Yui was looking right through her. Only Yui had the unique ability to derail any train of thought Azusa was having at a given moment. Her defensive instincts kicked in. “Oh please, I’m not this bad! We’re bandmates, Yui-senpai, we’re supposed to care!” The blush on her face was doing a poor job of supporting her case.

“Oh? We’re just bandmates? Do you still hate me after all these years, Azu-nyan?” Yui threw her hands in the air dramatically while Azusa watched, unamused but privately grateful for the time to recover.

“If you’re going to make me say it, then yes, we’re friends Yui-senpai. I’d have filed a restraining order a long time ago if we weren’t.”

Yui’s face paled. “Y-you weren’t really considering that, were you Azu-nyan?”

The expression on Azusa’s face conveyed that she, in fact, wasn’t kidding. Yui started to tear up. “Azu-nyan, I’d die if we were separated! You can’t do this to me!”

She charged her kouhai once more, arms wide open, but Azusa was more than prepared this time. She held her senpai back with one hand while staring at her disapprovingly. “Yui-senpai, that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t funny!” Yui cried out indignantly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go right now?” Azusa pointed out helpfully.

Yui gasped. “You’re right! I’ve gotta get home! I’ll see you tomorrow, Azu-nyan!” Yui snatched her guitar and bolted out the door.

When Azusa heard her front door open and slam shut, she allowed herself to collapse gracefully to the floor, lying flat on her back. Yui had taken all of the energy Azusa felt she would have for the next year with her when she left. The young guitarist looked around her room. Crumpled paper balls, some of them now stepped on, still scattered her room. Her bedsheets were disheveled and dirty from their experiences with both girls. Azusa’s guitar was flat on the floor next to her, still plugged into its amp. The desk was home to several empty cups of tea and remnants of fruit that Yui didn’t eat. Her homework continued to glare at her, a silent reminder of where the rest of her time today was probably going. If an observer walked in at that moment, they might think someone had attacked Azusa and ransacked her room. Frankly, Azusa didn’t think that was too far off from the truth.

_A few hours ago, I was worried about being able to face them again. That’s funny. I could never abandon them by choice. I…care too much. I should be able to make a plan for things like this. There has to be something more I can do to keep the band together. Being around them makes me happy, even when they act immature or even sad. Why should it just end like this? Waiting around on the sidelines isn’t the answer, but what is? I have to make sure Yui-senpai is alright tomorrow, too. Ugh. Things used to be so simple. But I can’t give up yet. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me._

“I guess that’s just how it is, then,” Azusa told herself. “I’m gonna see this through to the end, no matter what.”

Despite the declaration, worry still gnawed at the younger girl. She hadn’t solved the problem of the coming end. She wasn’t even sure if she had said the right things to her senpai. Her mental image of her senpai wasn’t even certain anymore. Nothing was certain, and it irritated Azusa. There were plenty of things that needed to be done in her room alone before the day ended. There would be more things to do tomorrow, and the day after that. But in the immediate moment, the only thing Azusa found herself able to do was close her eyes. The rest of the world could certainly wait a few hours for her to get some sleep.


	7. Fog!

**November 7th, After School**

Azusa Nakano stumbled up the stairs leading to the clubroom. The steps appeared to swim before her vision as she dragged herself along with the railing lining the stairs. HTT’s youngest member was functioning solely on blind determination that most would unkindly call stubbornness. In retrospect, everything she had done yesterday was a mistake. She had never taken a nap in the middle of the day before, and her body made her pay dearly for it. Barely an hour had remained before her parents were due back when Azusa woke up. It had been all the guitarist could do just to conceal the evidence of Yui’s presence by the time her parents walked in and proceeded to barely acknowledge she was there. Concerns over Yui plagued Azusa’s thoughts as she fought against her homework until some ungodly hour of the night. Calling in sick wasn’t an option, not when she had all but promised Yui that she’d be present for club activities today. Thus, when Azusa’s morning alarm rang out as she finished off the last of her assignments, she had convinced herself that the right thing to do was to go to school and pretend everything was fine, hoping her body would play along.

Unfortunately, the only prize Azusa received for her conviction was a buzzing sensation in her head and a perpetual feeling of weariness. She couldn’t even bring herself to search for her senpais during the day, the challenge of leaving her chair once she had sat down unfathomably difficult. It took all of Azusa’s waning willpower just to stay awake for her classes. A vague memory of her friends Jun and Ui attempting to ask her if she was alright during lunch was stored in her memory, but the exact words exchanged evaded her. Perhaps more worrying was the fact that it wasn’t even clear to the younger girl if she had eaten or not.

_This was a mistake. I should have at least had some coffee before I left this morning. But I can’t let Yui-senpai or the others down. I have to make sure Yui-senpai made up with her parents. I’ll just make sure everyone is alright and go home early for a nap. A really long nap. A cat nap… heh… cat… nap…_

“No! Wake up, baka,” Azusa instructed herself, slapping her cheeks a few times.

Acting on the rush of energy pain provided, Azusa opened the door to the clubroom. Mio, Tsumugi, and Ritsu were gathered around one of the clubroom’s windows, staring out at something Azusa couldn’t see. When the door opened, all three seniors turned their heads and broke out into various expressions of relief, then concern. The only thing Azusa immediately noticed was that Yui wasn’t currently in the room. Biting back a desperate cry of frustration at her own misfortune, Azusa placed a weak smile on her face.

“Azusa-chan! What happened to you?” Mio cried out, taking a step backwards in shock.

“You look like death,” Ritsu added helpfully. “What the hell did you and Yui do yesterday?”

Azusa started. “Y-you know I met with Yui-senpai yesterday?” she asked, her paper-thin voice ready to tear into pieces at any moment.

“Yui-chan informed us on some details of her… escapades yesterday,” Tsumugi explained carefully, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Come sit down. I think I have something for this.”

Too tired to argue, Azusa could only shuffle over to her place at the table, leaving her bag and guitar behind with their counterparts. “I’m just still not feeling 100%,” she explained feebly, drawing on her earlier excuse for missing Saturday’s meeting.

Ritsu leaned against the back of the couch, trying and failing to hide the worried expression on her face. Mio walked over to her kouhai, inspecting her eyes carefully. “Perhaps, but you look tired, too. How much sleep did you get last night? You don’t have to push yourself, you know.”

Azusa fidgeted nervously at the attention. She felt foolish for even considering that her senpais didn’t care about her, but the more pressing emotion was the guilt she felt for lying to them to miss practice. “I got some sleep yesterday,” she answered vaguely, notably leaving out that said sleep had occurred in the middle of the day.

It was as Azusa herself was being inspected that she managed to notice the faint dark lines under Mio’s eyes. Azusa’s own eyes widened, causing Mio to suddenly look away. _Did Mio-senpai not get any sleep last night either? _

Mio pretended to cough into her hand, unable to find any way to remove the awkward air they had accidentally created. Their tension was mercifully broken by the sound of Ritsu slapping her fist into her hand in understanding. “That’s it!” she cried out.

All three other occupants of the room blinked at the drummer. “What’s it?” Mio asked, taking the bait.

“Don’t you see?! The fog, Nakano’s behavior, her mysterious disappearance two days ago? This can only mean that she’s been possessed by a demon!” She pointed a finger dramatically at the kouhai, who eyed the club president in disappointment.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Azusa responded bluntly.

Though Mio nodded in agreement, Azusa could see her hands beginning to tremble. It was obvious where Ritsu was going with this, but Azusa couldn’t even begin to fathom a way to stop her. The drummer ignored her childhood friend’s distress. “Perhaps… but at the same time, we can’t ignore the possibility that poor Azusa here may in fact be possessed by an evil spirit! What if she worked herself to death, and now some demon from another dimension has claimed her body for itself to enact her twisted fantasies on the living? What if she’s already possessing some of us to make us work for her?”

Exactly as Ritsu hoped, Mio paled, taking a shaky step backwards from Azusa. The younger girl found it within herself to roll her eyes at her senpai. “Really, Mio-senpai? Ritsu-senpai is obviously making stuff up.”

“I-I know that!” Mio protested too quickly, forcing herself to reclaim the distance she had surrendered to her kouhai at the table with obvious discomfort.

Ritsu put her hands behind her head, clearly amused by the conundrum she had put her friend in. Azusa glared at the drummer, but Ritsu’s cheeky grin just widened. Sighing in frustration, Azusa turned to the bassist, drawing on Ritsu’s own logic to save both her and Mio’s sanity. “Senpai, I’m just tired. Even if I was possessed, I’d be haunting Yui-senpai and Ritsu-senpai, not you.”

Slowly, the wary look in Mio’s eyes faded, and she managed to smile at her kouhai. “Thank you, Azusa-chan. I appreciate that.”

“That isn’t how possession works,” Ritsu butted in helpfully. “She wouldn’t get to choose who she’s haunting. She’d definitely go after whoever got close to her first, like Mio did.”

A vein bulged on Mio’s forehead. She stalked her way over to Ritsu, who was beginning to realize how much more dangerous an angry Mio was than a demonically possessed Azusa. Before Azusa could even think about interfering, her teacup entered her vision on the table, placed by Tsumugi.

“Here, Azusa-chan, drink some of this,” Tsumugi ordered kindly, having appeared right next to the girl without her noticing.

After swallowing the startled gasp that tried to escape the younger girl at Tsumugi’s sudden appearance, Azusa gave the concoction in front of her a wary look. Her teacup was filled with what appeared to be tea at first glance, but the repugnant aroma it gave off offended her senses. None of her experience in tea preparation had ever exposed her to a combination of colors and scents this… unsettling. She shot the older blonde a suspicious glance. “Mugi-senpai, what is this?”

“It’s my own special blend!” Tsumugi declared proudly, sliding the cup a little closer to Azusa. “I’ve been serving tea for so long; I couldn’t help but try making some blends of my own. Tea apparently has a lot of remedial applications if you prepare it properly. For example, if you drink this, you’ll feel like you’ve had a full night’s rest!”

Tsumugi’s confidence left no room for argument. A quick glance at the still arguing Mio and Ritsu confirmed that they would not be swooping to their kouhai’s rescue. Azusa sighed. _I guess there’s no other choice. It’s not like Mugi-senpai would try to poison me or anything. She’s really good at this stuff anyways. It probably won’t be too bad if I just treat it like medicine._

Concealing trembling hands, Azusa seized her pink novelty cup and downed the entire concoction in one gulp. A gasp rang out from somewhere behind her. “Wait, you’re not supposed to drink it all at once!”

The warning fell on deaf ears. Azusa’s mouth was on fire. Every groggy nerve in her body was screaming at her, jolted awake by the pain exploding with every drop of infernal liquid that hit the back of her throat. She dropped the cup in her hand, barely registering that Tsumugi reacted immediately to catch it. Water. She needed water more than she needed to think, to breathe. Her vision swam even worse than it did when she was fatigued, diving right off the deep end of clarity into a swirling cacophony of painful images and sounds blending in and out of existence. The girl shot out of her seat, knocking her chair over and startling the other three girls in the room. _Water. Water. _The girl’s eyes swept around the room wildly, settling on the largest body of water in the room. She grinned evilly at the club’s pet turtle.

Fortunately for Ton, Tsumugi was able to follow Azusa’s hungry glare. “Azusa-chan, no! Ton-chan needs that water! Drink this!” She held a bottle of water in front of Azusa’s face.

Azusa snatched the prize from Tsumugi’s hands and downed the drink rapidly. Instantly, relief overcame her. By the time the water bottle was empty, Azusa’s senses had returned to her. As the relief she felt over the disappearance of the vile taste in her mouth subsided, she realized that she had crushed the water bottle in her grip, and dropped it in surprise. Worse, Azusa noticed that everyone, even Ton, was looking at her curiously. She blushed, the extent of her outburst painfully apparent. “Um… I’m sorry,” she apologized, tracing a circle shyly on the ground with her foot. “I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

Tsumugi shook her head emphatically. “No, no, it’s my fault!” she insisted. “I should have warned you sooner, that blend is extremely spicy! It’s supposed to be taken in small doses with water to wake up your senses and invigorate you. Mother and Father use it when they have to work late.” The blonde heiress bowed deeply in shame.

Unprecedented levels of alertness coursed through Azusa’s body as she inspected herself. Though Tsumugi’s methods were unorthodox, Azusa couldn’t deny that she felt more awake now than she had in months, maybe even years. She gave her senpai a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Mugi-senpai. I shouldn’t have tried to drink it all at once like that. My apologies.”

The two girls exchanged a look of understanding as Tsumugi raised her head. Azusa couldn’t possibly fault her senpai for trying to help, even if her explanation skills left something to be desired. Tsumugi was just grateful that Azusa wasn’t mad at her. Ritsu and Mio had stopped arguing when the commotion had started, but the situation only seemed to goad Ritsu on further. “See?! Proof! Nakano is definitely possessed, and Mugi’s tea just forced her to show her true colors. How’d you create the fog, demon? What’d you do to my best friend Azusa Nakano?”

Both Mio and Azusa blanched. Tsumugi cast her gaze downward once more as she turned Azusa’s teacup over in her hands. “I didn’t know Azusa-chan was possessed…” the keyboardist murmured.

_Maybe I should have just stayed half-asleep. _Azusa mused to herself in irritation. Before she could even begin to unpack the scene taking place in front of her, the door to the clubroom opened once more. “Excuse us,” came Ui’s polite voice from the entrance.

With the worst possible timing, the Hirasawa sisters arrived at the clubroom. Ritsu beamed, while Azusa cursed every god she could think of internally. The only person that could push Ritsu’s antics from annoying to intolerable was smiling lazily in front of them. Azusa knew she was supposed to act, but no plan came to her. She was unprepared, and Mio was useless, all of her attention diverted towards trying to convince herself that demons and ghosts weren’t real. Azusa desperately tried to convey the gravity of the situation to her last hope Ui with a look, but Ui was busy staring at Tsumugi, who was still observing Azusa’s teacup like it was the holy grail.

Ritsu opened her mouth, and the game was lost. “Private, emergency! Nakano has been possessed by a demon! If we don’t do something, she’ll kill us all!”

Ui was caught off guard by the declaration, but Yui didn’t miss a beat, and in a flash, she was deadly serious. “I understand, Captain. I’ll handle this. Don’t try to stop me.”

“No, Private, you can’t! She’s already gotten to Mio and Mugi! I can’t lose you too!”

Mio smacked Ritsu on the back of the head, which had the unintended side effect of adding credibility to Ritsu’s claim. The drummer dropped to the ground as soon as the blow connected, writhing around in mock agony. Tsumugi looked at herself, trembling. “She got to me already?” Disbelief was etched onto a pale face. “Then that means… I’m…”

Whatever conclusion Tsumugi came to, it was enough to convince her to retreat into a corner of the room, hands over her knees, shaking like a leaf. Azusa convinced herself that Tsumugi would survive and refocused on the more pressing issue in the room. “If I don’t do this, then their sacrifices will have been for nothing,” Yui proclaimed with a solemn edge to her voice.

“Don’t throw your life away like this!” Ritsu shouted, trying her best to remain limp while Mio poked and prodded her in various places to get the drummer to stand up. “You have to think of- hey, not there, that tickles! You have to think of your family! What will Ui do without you?”

At the mention of her name, Ui came back to life, having spent the last minute observing with a startling amount of complacency. All hope Azusa had for her friend to help deescalate the situation was crushed when the younger Hirasawa sister flung herself between Yui and Azusa, arms outstretched to block the way in a pose everyone but Azusa found familiar. “No! Take me instead, demon! Leave my sister out of this!”

Azusa’s eyebrow twitched. “Really?” she asked in disbelief, thoroughly unamused.

Ui’s response was a sheepish grin that only Azusa was able to see from her position. Azusa sighed. _Guess it’s up to me to be the mature one. Again. If only we could practice as hard as we play pretend._

As relaxed as she was willing to be with her senpais when it came to the balance between tea time, practice time, and play time, she still had to draw a line somewhere. She calmly stood her chair up and placed it back in its place. “For the last time, I’m not possessed. Like I told you all when I walked in, I was just tired. Yui-senpai, stand down. This is just one of Ritsu-senpai’s dumb games.”

Ritsu mumbled something about her games being cool and fun, but another smack from Mio shut her down. Yui was undeterred, and she pushed her way past a protesting Ui. “Sorry, Azu-demon. That body belongs to Azu-nyan. For the sake of the Light Music Club, I’m going to destroy you now.”

The menacing glare Azusa was receiving unnerved her. It was impossible to tell how serious Yui actually was in situations like this. Tsumugi was still contemplating her life choices in the corner, and Mio had gotten too invested in delivering due payback to the club president, leaving Azusa alone with Yui the demon slayer. Before Azusa could even think, there was no more distance between them. Yui reached out a hand towards her kouhai slowly, bestowing the younger girl precious time to consider her options. _Yui-senpai would never physically hurt anyone, let alone one of her friends. Wait, does yesterday count as hurting someone for her? That’s too complicated to think about right now. _Yui’s hand rose in the air, and a flashback of the Yui Azusa saw during their practice session yesterday flashed in her mind. Irrationality assaulted her. _Should I defend myself? But then I might accidentally hurt Yui-senpai. What do I do?!_

In the end, Azusa followed her trend of failing to make a decision. She could only shut her eyes and allow Yui to take control. The older girl’s hand descended, but instead of pain, Azusa only felt stress leaving her body as her senpai patted her on the head. “Begone, demon!” Yui ordered cheerfully.

Thinking on it, the outcome should have been obvious to Azusa. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she had a weakness for the particular action Yui employed. Azusa could feel her tense muscles relaxing as her senpai comforted her. A contented sigh escaped her lips, unable to resist the unique hold her senpai had over her. Only when she opened her eyes did she notice she had the full attention of everyone in the room. Realizing her mistake, Azusa immediately slapped Yui’s hand away, blushing. “Okay, you did it, alright? The demon is gone. Are we done here?”

“Azu-nyan’s back!” Yui cheered, twirling in a victory circle.

“Excellent work, Private!” Ritsu praised, giving Yui a thumbs up from the floor.

Yui rubbed the back of her neck bashfully, giggling. Azusa wished the floor would swallow her. She had just stood there and let her senpai pet her like she was actually a cat. Worse, she had enjoyed it. No matter how many times it happened, Azusa couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at the utter display of weakness. “Oh, I forgot my bag in the classroom,” Ui realized, looking at the bags of the Light Music Club members. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you!” Azusa insisted, jumping on the opportunity to be anywhere but where she was standing.

Ui didn’t object, but it was clear she was at least confused by her friend’s insistence. The four seniors waved the juniors off as they exited the clubroom. When she was sure that they were out of earshot, Azusa allowed herself a heavy sigh. While she no longer felt tired, nothing could elicit exhaustion from her the way her senpai’s antics could. Ui smiled at her friend knowingly. “That was fun, huh?”

“That’s… not my idea of fun,” Azusa rebuked, her hand drifting over the turtle on the railing of the stairs. “I’d much rather we practice, or even have tea than have everyone treat me like some monster.”

“It was all just a game, though,” Ui countered. “Don’t your senpais do this kind of thing often?”

“It’s been a while,” Azusa commented, realizing the fact as she spoke it. “We haven’t messed around like that since the festival.”

“Seems like things are back to normal then, ne, Azusa-chan?” Ui posited sagely.

“Normal, huh…” Azusa mused.

_We were never a normal club. Mio-senpai said it herself. If anything, we were more normal after the festival compared to before it. But that’s the wrong way of thinking, isn’t it? They’re doing their part to behave normally. I should follow suit. _

Conversation perished when Azusa failed to properly respond. Ui didn’t express any discomfort at the development, not that Azusa noticed. The two casually made their way to their classroom, passing the odd student or two in the mostly empty hallways. When they reached the door, however, Ui paused with her hand on the doorknob, causing Azusa to almost bump into her. “I’m really not mad at you,” the younger Hirasawa sister insisted.

Azusa tilted her head. Over the course of her walk, the fog in her head had lifted, allowing her clarity of thought that had evaded her since yesterday. As dangerous as Tsumugi’s healing tea evidently was, she couldn’t deny the quality of the results. “For what?” Azusa asked, feeling like she missed the start of the conversation.

“For keeping my sister so long yesterday. Onee-chan said you were worried that I’d be mad.” Ui’s fingers played with the door handle uncertainly.

The memory of Azusa’s worry over Ui’s wrath reminded her of her purpose for showing up that day in the first place. “Oh! Did she talk to your parents yesterday?”

Ui nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Her gaze was locked on the doorknob. Azusa was beginning to feel awkward as they both stood outside their classroom like they were in trouble for something. “Should we talk inside?” the black-haired girl suggested.

“Ah, sure,” Ui agreed, awareness returning to her.

A single school bag, left behind by Ui, was the only company awaiting the two girls in the classroom. Azusa waited by the door while Ui swiftly made her way over to her possessions. “Onee-chan and our parents spent an hour or so talking last night,” Ui explained as she looked through her bag to ensure everything was still there. “I don’t know what they were talking about, but they all seemed pretty happy with the result. Onee-chan wanted me to let you know that she took care of everything and to not worry.”

Azusa allowed herself to breathe again. “That’s… really good to hear. I’m glad she was able to make up with them.”

“She also spent an excessive amount of time apologizing to me for her actions. I assume you had something to do with that?” Ui guessed, a small grin playing on her lips.

“I felt bad,” Azusa rationalized, internalizing her surprise at Yui’s accurate compliance. “Yui-senpai wasn’t thinking about your feelings, so I had to at least try to get her to apologize.”

With a sigh, Ui shouldered her bag, standing up straight from her desk. “This is my fault. I haven’t been doing my job as a younger sister well enough. I should have noticed how Onee-chan was feeling. If I had, then maybe she wouldn’t have run off.” A tear started to form in the younger sister’s eye.

Azusa shook her head immediately. “You of all people have no right to claim to be a bad younger sister. If anything, you spoil Yui-senpai too much. She’s fortunate to have you.”

Ui sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Thanks, Azusa-chan. I know things have been a bit strange between us lately, but I really appreciate your friendship with both me and Onee-chan. Heh, I feel like I’ve been thanking you a lot over the past few days.”

Azusa allowed herself to chuckle. “I’m not blameless either. I haven’t done anything worth being thanked over.”

A contemplative look absorbed Ui’s features. “How about we call it even, then? I still feel bad about ruining your lunch a few days ago.” The brunette held out friendly hand.

Azusa didn’t have to consider her options, shaking the hand immediately. Lunch wasn’t nearly as important as her friend, and Azusa suspected that Ui was just as eager to put the past few days behind her as she was. “Deal.”

As they ascended the stairs once more, a thought occurred to the guitarist that would have ordinarily come to her much sooner. “Ne, Ui-chan, why did you come to the clubroom today?”

Ui blinked. “You didn’t notice? You must have been really out of it, Azusa-chan. I told you during lunch that my parents were taking Onee-chan and I home after the Light Music Club activities because of the fog.”

“Ritsu-senpai mentioned fog too…” Azusa pondered aloud.

As they passed the window illuminating the staircase, Azusa happened to glance outside. The sight she was greeted with shocked her. They were only on the second floor, but Azusa couldn’t see the ground. A dense layer of fog shrouded the entire school outside, covering everything in an oppressive grey blanket. “They say it’s the worst fog we’ve had in years,” Ui commented. “You should be careful getting home today.”

Unable to form words, Azusa nodded. It became urgently apparent to the guitarist that her head wasn’t completely clear yet. She’d have to be wary until she was able to properly sleep once more. Keeping the warning in mind, Azusa and Ui finished climbing the stairs and returned to the clubroom. The pair wasn’t sure exactly what to expect when she returned, but to Azusa’s relief, all of her senpais were seated calmly at the table, drinking tea and chatting animatedly. For the briefest of instants, she could feel herself beginning to freeze up, but the sight of her own place at the table thawed her limbs. _I have a place here. That’s what I’ve decided. _

Azusa forced herself to walk forwards, all four seniors greeting her kindly. Ui took the seat of Sawako, who was off doing who knew what. While Azusa quietly sipped her tea, grateful to find it was a normal blend this time, Tsumugi apologized constantly for her lapse in instruction giving. Any insistence on Azusa’s part that Tsumugi hadn’t done anything wrong was promptly ignored, but it didn’t bother Azusa as much as she would have expected it to. Ritsu and Yui entertained Ui with stories of the Light Music Club’s exploits, with the more radical exaggerations being corrected by Mio. Conversation flowed across the table, but Azusa inevitably found herself focusing on Yui. Despite what Ui had claimed, Azusa was still concerned. She shook her head, tendrils of fog still threatening her concentration.

_Ui-chan insisted that Yui-senpai made up with her parents. That means I have to let it go. One way or another, the matter is settled. I should trust my senpais more._

Without meaning to, Azusa had been staring at Yui the entire time she had been thinking. When the brunette finally noticed, she gave her kouhai a giddy smile, causing Azusa to look down into her tea, embarrassed. She only looked up once more when she heard her name. “Huh? What were we talking about?” Azusa asked, not sure who was talking to her.

“Geez, are you really still that out of it?” Ritsu questioned, earning a sharp look from Mio. “I was asking if you’re still able to do the party on Sunday.”

“The party!” Azusa exclaimed too loudly, memories from over a week ago rushing back to her.

Ritsu tilted her head. “Yeah, the party to celebrate our concert’s success and your birthday. You didn’t forget, did you?”

“No!” Azusa lied. In her defense, the plans had been made over a week ago, and said plan had only been mentioned less frequently as the group’s mood had soured. She racked her brain to recall the information that had been stored away. “We were going to do it at Yui-senpai’s house, right? I can still make it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mio spoke, relieved. “There wouldn’t be much of a point to this if the birthday girl couldn’t be there.”

Azusa blushed a little. “It’s not just about me, it’s about the band too…”

“If not then, then when?” Yui pointed out around a mouthful of food.

“She has a point,” Tsumugi added helpfully.

“I’m looking forward to it! I’ll have a bunch of food prepared, too!” Ui chirped.

Yui was already drooling at the thought, the food in front of her forgotten in favor of daydreaming about the food at the end of the week. Azusa smiled privately to herself at her senpai’s antics. Conversation turned to something else, and Azusa allowed herself to be swept up in the enthusiastic mood. For the first time in weeks, the clubroom lit up, a lighthouse shining defiantly into the fog covering the school. Azusa felt comfortable, even completely at ease with her situation. She couldn’t even bring herself to suggest practicing. The moment was a record repeating the emotion that overcame Azusa two days ago, her utter refusal to act to destroy the picture she had witnessed. The only difference this time was that Azusa herself was painted in along with her senpais. Doubt vanished for the junior. Azusa truly felt as if she belonged here, with her senpais, playing guitar, drinking tea, laughing, even taking place in inane games. As she sipped her tea, she was content.

The day slipped away, its passage disguised by the fog. Only when Ui and Yui received a message at the same time indicating their parents were there did anyone at the table realize just how much time had passed. “My my. I didn’t realize how much time had passed,” Tsumugi commented to herself.

“I don’t think we’ve been able to relax like this in a while,” Mio added, before throwing a hasty look to Azusa. “I mean, we’ll definitely practice tomorrow!”

Azusa could only smile at her senior. “It’s fine, Mio-senpai. Days like today can be nice, too.”

Internally, the workaholic side of Azusa was screaming at her blasphemy, but Azusa told it to shut up. She wasn’t going to let anything sully the feelings she was experiencing right now. Knowing that an end was imminent only made it more important to the junior to embrace the time she currently had. Finding a solution could wait. “Oh, Azu-nyan, how are you getting home?” Yui asked over her shoulder as she picked up her guitar.

Startled, the younger girl looked out the window. Fog still oppressively clung to the school like a persistent cold. She had completely forgotten Ui’s warning in the moment, and her parents certainly wouldn’t go out of their way this late in the day to pick her up. “I’d give you a ride if we had the space…” Yui muttered, disappointed in herself.

“I’m not allowed to use the limo for going anywhere but between school and my house, unfortunately,” Tsumugi chipped in, drawing envious looks from everyone.

“Guess it’s up to us, huh Mio?” Ritsu declared, draping an arm around Mio’s shoulders.

Mio rolled her eyes and shook her childhood friend off, but her look towards Azusa was inviting. “We’d be happy to walk you home, Azusa-chan.”

Gratitude shone in Azusa’s eyes. “Yes please, thank you both!” she bowed slightly, eliciting a chuckle from Ritsu.

Ritsu grinned cheekily. “Come on, kiddo, we’ve known each other long enough that we don’t need to bother with shit like that.”

“Language,” Mio ordered, smacking Ritsu on the back of the head. “We’re still in school.”

“Yeah, yeah, you get my point,” Ritsu continued, unperturbed. “You’re just as much of a member as the rest of us. No need for formalities, unless I feel like enforcing them as club president.”

Terrible as Ritsu’s reassurance was, Azusa found herself at ease. Ritsu wouldn’t be winning any awards anytime soon, but Azusa felt that she had all the qualities necessary to be a leader in the right circumstances. Goodbyes were quickly exchanged with the Hirasawa sisters and Tsumugi, and the trio began their trek through the unknown towards home. Now that she was outside, it became ironically clear just how pervasive the fog had become. “The crazy thing is how sunny it was this morning,” Mio commented, looking up at the melancholy sky.

“Yeah. Almost seems… supernatural,” Ritsu suggested, eyeing the two guitar players.

“Please don’t start this again,” Azusa pleaded.

Ritsu shrugged. “Suit yourself. If we’re not going to play around, then what do you want to do? At the least, we should keep our voices up. It’s hard to be seen with all the fog.”

The forethought Ritsu demonstrated pleasantly surprised Azusa. Mio thought for a moment, then turned to Azusa. “In that case, I’d like to ask you about Yui-chan, Azusa-chan.”

Azusa tilted her head. “Me? Why?”

“Oh yeah, Yui mentioned that she visited you yesterday.” Ritsu remembered. “What was that all about? Are you forming a new band without us?” the drummer guessed.

Both Mio and Azusa shot Ritsu a disapproving glare. “Of course not. She just showed up at my house unannounced yesterday. I made her go home when she told me she was avoiding her parents,” Azusa explained, conveniently leaving out most of the story.

Mio’s eyes flashed with some feeling Azusa couldn’t pinpoint, and she leaned in a bit too closely towards the younger girl. “You convinced her to go home? How?” she interrogated.

Under Mio’s intense scrutiny, Azusa shrank back a little. “Umm, I don’t really know. I just told her she should talk things over with them. Why do you ask?”

Pausing, Mio realized how hard she was pushing when even Ritsu was giving her a strange look, and she backed off, flustered. “Sorry. Honestly, Yui-chan slept over at my house two nights ago, when you were sick, so I was worried if she had gone home or not.”

“Wait a second, is that why you didn’t pick up when I called you two days ago?” Ritsu interrupted. “Mio, how could you betray me? I thought I was the only one you let copy your homework!”

“She wasn’t there for homework this time, baka Ritsu. She showed up right before I was going to go to sleep and practically begged me to let her stay over, explaining that she couldn’t sleep at home in case her parents showed up while she was sleeping. I tried to get her to go home, but she wouldn’t listen to reason, and I couldn’t let her sleep in the cold. She’s lucky my parents are so understanding. By the time I woke up the next morning, she was gone, leaving a note and some stickers thanking me for my help.” As she explained things, Mio’s voice tightened, regret tinging her words.

Azusa mulled over Mio’s explanation as the trio continued their walk through the shrouded town. Based on what Mio had said, Yui hadn’t had a plan in mind when she made her escape two nights ago. Then again, she hadn’t ever known her senpai to be much of a planner. Mio refocused her attention on the kouhai as they crossed a street. “In any case, no matter what I said, Yui-chan insisted that she wasn’t able, or rather that she didn’t want to go home. So, how’d you convince her?”

No response came from the younger girl. She wasn’t even sure herself how she convinced Yui to go home. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she eventually repeated candidly. “We practiced for a while, then when I asked her to talk to them, she agreed. I don’t know what else to say.”

A suspicious look abruptly appeared on Ritsu’s face. “I don’t think either of you are telling the whole truth,” she flatly accused.

The two black-haired guitarists started, both acting as guiltily as possible. Ritsu scoffed, walking backwards in front of the two girls, ignoring the danger she herself had pointed out. “You’re both too easy to read. If Yui came to either of you, it’s because she wanted advice, not a place to hide out. She would have come to me or Mugi if she was just looking for a place to crash. Me because I’m lovable and fun to be around and Mugi because come on, have you seen her mansion?”

“Advice?” Both Mio and Azusa questioned at once before exchanging a befuddled look.

“Yeah, advice,” Ritsu echoed, her laid-back tone masking the force she put behind her words. “You’re one of the smartest people Yui knows, Mio. As for you, Nakano, well, I don’t think I need to explain that she likes you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azusa cried out indignantly.

“Wait, you knew why she ran away from home the whole time?” Mio questioned dubiously, leaving Azusa’s outburst alone.

“Of course,” the drummer boasted, puffing out her chest. “Well, she didn’t tell me outright, but I had a pretty good idea when I heard what happened. Mugi knows, too, probably. It’s kind of scary how observant she can be when it comes to these things.”

“Stay on topic,” Azusa ordered, composing herself. “If you knew, why didn’t you say something? What do you mean by she likes you?”

Ritsu placed her hands behind her head, a dismissive expression on her face. “What would I say? I’m not going to pry into something that personal unless Yui asks me about it directly.” She paused when she caught Mio’s eye. “Don’t look at me like that, Mio. As your fearless leader, it’s my job to keep everyone happy and in peak physical and mental condition! I’m not completely heartless.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Mio ribbed, only half-joking.

“Harsh, dangerous queen,” Ritsu fired back, her trademark troublemaker’s grin appearing.

Another argument brewed between the childhood friends as Azusa’s grip on her bags tightened. How little attention had she been paying over the past few weeks? Her own personal problems had been allowed to blind her vision worse than the fog surrounding the girls. The commitment she had made yesterday sounded hollow now. _How can I stand by their side if I can’t even tell when they’re hurting? _

“I knew something was wrong,” she reasoned, more to herself than the others as she recalled conversation between her and Yui from a few days ago. “But I didn’t know it had to do with her parents until yesterday.”

The two seniors swapped their attention from antagonizing each other to their kouhai. “You could argue that something’s been up with all of us since the festival,” Mio supported. “I honestly thought that everything would be fine after our meeting a few mornings ago. I was naïve.”

“No, you weren’t,” Ritsu corrected. “We all have things to deal with. Maybe that and Yui’s thing with her parents aren’t related, maybe they are. Who knows? From what I can tell, she’s doing alright now. Problem solved.”

Evidently, Mio didn’t see the problem as quite solved. As the trio crossed one of the last streets leading to Azusa’s house, she placed a hand on Azusa’s shoulder. “Ritsu was right about the honesty thing, for once. Truthfully, after calling up Mugi-chan and discussing things with her, I advised Yui-chan to go talk to you on this matter, Azusa-chan,” Mio admitted, looking away while ignoring Ritsu’s indignant commentary at being left out of the loop. “We weren’t sure how to help her, so even though you were sick, we thought you might be able to convince her to go home.”

Azusa was baffled by the revelation. “Eh? Why?”

“You should know,” Ritsu pointed out, recovering rapidly. “You’re the only one who can change that girl’s mind when she’s got it stuck on something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azusa rebuked indignantly, shaking Mio’s hand off to stare down the drummer. “If anyone, Ui-chan would be only one who could control Yui-senpai.”

Ritsu shook her head condescendingly. “Poor, innocent Azusa. You should know by now that Yui’s crazy about you.”

“Ritsu!” Mio yelled, smacking her friend harder than she had the entire afternoon, causing Ritsu to actually wince. “What? It’s true. If she hasn’t noticed it by now, she never will.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that Yui-senpai has a problem with my personal space,” Azusa huffed, folding her arms. “I don’t have any more control over Yui-senpai than you all do.”

Even Mio was looking at Azusa in disbelief at this point. Neither one of them believed her claim. The confidence Azusa was attempting to give off faltered. “Azusa-chan…” the bassist started, her thought getting caught in her throat. “You’re the only one that Yui hugs so frequently. You’re the one she turns to when she needs help with her guitar. You’re the one she seeks out when she has free time during the day. You can’t expect us to believe that you two don’t at least have some sort of bond.”

“I-I’m aware of that!” Azusa admitted, a blush rising on her face. “First of all, she won’t leave me alone because she likes cute things. She does that to every cute thing she comes across.” Realizing what she was saying, she waved her hands in front of her face, embarrassed. “I’m not saying I’m cute, I’m saying she apparently thinks I am! Uh, secondly, I’m her fellow guitar player, so of course she’d come to me if she needed help with her guitar. Finally, she has class with you two and Mugi-senpai all the time, so I’m the only one she’d have to seek out in the first place. Our bond is as bandmates and friends, nothing more, nothing less.”

The two childhood friends exchanged dubious glances with each other, then turned back to Azusa, doing nothing to hide their doubt. “I think you’re protesting too much,” Ritsu half-joked. “It’s easier just to say what’s really on your mind, you know?”

“Shut up!” Azusa hissed, stunning her senpais. “Nothing between us has changed. She promised me nothing would change!”

“Azusa, I’m sorry-“ Ritsu started, before being cut off with a harsh glare from Mio.

“Please calm down, Azusa-chan,” Mio implored. “We’re not trying to pry, we’re just worried about you.”

The words Azusa’s senpais were saying only further frustrated her. As she prepared to deliver another stinging rebuke, a ray of light struck her eyes. Shielding her eyes and looking up, Azusa noticed that the sun had ultimately won its battle with the fog, the barrier of grey shrinking and disappearing under the clarity of yellow. For the second time that day, Azusa seized her chance to escape, forcing herself to power walk past her senpais. “This is my street, and the fog is lifting, so I can make my way home from here. Thank you for walking me this far. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Ignoring the protests of her seniors, Azusa took off, running as fast as her legs could carry her to her house.

Only when Azusa closed the door to her room did she allow herself to slow down and think. She slammed her hand on her desk in uncharacteristic anger, frustrated tears spilling out of her eyes. “Way to go, Nakano,” she praised herself sarcastically. “You really showed them by breaking down and running away. You’re the champion HTT needs.”

The feeling of fatigue that had been chasing Azusa since she woke up yesterday finally caught up to her, and she slumped down in her chair. It was impossible for the kouhai to know what to think anymore. _I thought I knew what was going on. Things were finally back to normal. I was happy. They were happy. Why did Mio-senpai and Ritsu-senpai have to suggest something so… weird? I shouldn’t have snapped at them like that. They’re my senpais. I have to apologize as soon as possible, even if they’re wrong. We’re all still the same people. Nothing happened to change that. _

Even as the thought ran through her head, Azusa knew it was a lie. Azusa had seen so many sides of Yui over the past week that she’d have to be a fool not to notice that something was going on. “Yui-senpai is Yui-senpai…” she muttered, spinning around in her chair. “But who is Yui-senpai?”

Her other senpais were being arguably as confusing Ritsu was being far bolder in her teasing and brazen honesty than Azusa could ever remember. Mio didn’t appear to have as solid a hold on her composure as she normally did, which admittedly still wasn’t saying much. That wasn’t even mentioning that the two of them apparently thought something was going on between her and Yui-senpai of all people. As for Tsumugi, nothing seemed to be out of order, but the previous week had only convinced her that her blond senpai was probably changing too, in some way Azusa simply hadn’t noticed. The thought pricked her with guilt, and she wondered if she was changing too. Worse, she wondered if she was somehow the catalyst for the change, in the same way Mio and Ritsu seemed to think she had impacted Yui, though she dismissed the idea almost immediately. _We promised to stay together, Yui-senpai. But everyone is changing. I don’t know what to do. _

Azusa pondered the issue for a while, and continued to mull over it even as she completed her homework and ate dinner alone. She considered a multitude of options, from pretending nothing had happened to not showing up to practice again, but no matter what angle she approached the problem from, only one conclusion made sense.

_I have to face this head on. If it worked for Yui-senpai, maybe it’ll work for me. I’ll apologize to Mio-senpai and Ritsu-senpai after I get Yui-senpai to explain that there’s nothing between us. We’re just friends. That’s all. We promised we wouldn’t change yet. I have to keep that promise, no matter what. _

The goal determined, Azusa completed the rest of her nightly tasks without incident. She turned into bed early, allowing all the stress and fatigue of the past 24 hours to sap the last of her strength. Unlike yesterday, however, she now had a plan as she waited for sleep to claim her. The young guitarist had been fortunate, she realized. The light her senpais had exuded the other day, or even over the past few years, had been shared with her of all people. She had been basking in it, even creating some of her own, ever since joining the band. Only now, however, when the band’s glow had dimmed for the first time, did Azusa understand why she cared so much about the Light Music Club and its members. Despite her own protests, she knew deep down that she loved all of them deeply, and the passion only reinforced her determination to set the record straight the next day. As she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, her last thoughts were of the five members of the band, sitting around the table, laughing together without a care in the world.


	8. I want everyone to stay as a band for a long time

**November 8th, After School**

_Fate’s mean. _

This childish explanation was the only one Yui could fathom as to why she wasn’t able to fall asleep. Painstaking minutes of planning were going to waste as the seconds ticked by and Yui remained conscious. Yui couldn’t remember a time where she’d ever passed up on such a perfect opportunity to nap, which only furthered her frustration. Granted, she didn’t nap in class as much as she used to before high school and the Light Music Club, but that only made golden opportunities like this all the more precious. Like eating sweets and playing music, lazing around was supposed to be a fundamental part of who Yui Hirasawa was. She refused to acknowledge the possibility that anything but fate could be the source of her insomnia. Her parents and her were on speaking terms again. After yesterday, she was certain that her bandmates were at least close to, if not completely back to normal. Even Azusa, Yui’s biggest concern, had managed to enjoy herself, after she endured Ritsu’s game at least. Yui sighed to herself, forgetting that other people could hear her.

“Oh, were you awake, Yui-chan?” rang out Tsumugi’s voice from somewhere off to the side of the brunette.

Knowing the game was up, Yui raised her head, bleary eyes taking in the almost empty classroom around her. “I couldn’t sleep…” she admitted, frustration evident in her tone.

“Really now, you go to the trouble of making us cover for you so you can sleep while we’re on cleaning duty, and you don’t even have the decency to sleep?” Ritsu chided from the front of the room where she was erasing the chalkboard.

“Take it easy on her, baka,” Mio defended as she swept the floors diligently. “Yui-chan’s had a rough couple of days.”

“Everything’s fine now though…” Yui moaned in exasperation. “So why won’t fate let me sleep?”

Tsumugi gave Yui an understanding smile as she passed by the brunette’s desk, searching for personal items or trash students had left behind. “I don’t know about fate, but perhaps something is else stressing you out?” she suggested. “Planning for the party on Sunday, perhaps?”

Yui waved a hand dismissively. “Ui’s taking care of that. She said people shouldn’t plan parties that are for them. It’s too bad, because I had some good ideas, too.” The brunette’s mind began to wander as she recalled her own plans for the party, each more unrealistic than the last.

Mio and Tsumugi exchanged a dubious look, prompting Yui to convert her wistful smile to a pout. “I have good ideas,” she insisted. “Right, Ricchan?”

The one lifeline Yui had reached out to turned out to be a devil in disguise. “If you have the energy to brag about your bad ideas, then you have the energy to help us clean.” Ritsu pointed to an unoccupied broom next to the door coldly.

Miraculously, all of the energy in Yui’s body abandoned her in a single instant, and she collapsed against her desk. “Tired…” she whimpered, dramatically attempting to raise her hand in the air before allowing it to flop pitifully onto her desk.

“Then sleep,” Mio ordered, shaking her head in mock disapproval as she returned to sweeping, hiding a small smile.

Eager to obey, Yui shut her eyes tightly. She had chosen this moment in the first place specifically because of how ideal it was for sleeping. At this time of day, the sun heated the surface of her desk perfectly without the glaring light blasting her in the face and ruining the potential for rest. Additionally, she was almost always tired at this time of day due to the normal rigors of high school education. To top things off, with her three friends and bandmates on cleaning duty, she should have been able to comfortably snooze without the threat of being bothered or disturbing anyone trying to clean the room. Even with all these factors in her favor, Yui couldn’t obtain the sleep she desperately strove for. Every second she kept her eyes closed, she could only think of her friends, and how soon this would be the only way that she’d be able to see them. The thought filled her with dread, and sleep evaded her. Giving up on sleep for the moment, the guitarist’s eyes snapped open violently and she sat bolt upright in her desk. “I can’t do it!” she declared proudly, drawing the attention of her friends once more.

Ritsu sighed, sauntering over towards the troubled girl, two erasers in hand. “If you’re not going to sleep or help us, you might as well go to the clubroom. I’m sure Nakano’s wondering where everyone is.”

Yui gasped as an idea exploded into her thoughts. “You’re right! If I get some Azu-nyan energy, I’ll be able to sleep for sure!”

Baffled, Ritsu cocked her head to one side, a half-smile on her face as she tried to follow Yui’s logic. “Well, that’s a better plan than moping around here,” she reasoned, more to herself than to Yui.

In a single fluid motion, Yui stood up and shouldered her bag. Thanking Ritsu for the idea, she began to skip her way to the door, careful to avoid the piles Mio was making as she swept. Before she could escape the room, however, a hand was placed on her shoulder. “Hold on,” Mio implored.

Despite Mio using only one hand, Yui felt like a rat caught in a mouse trap. The guitarist turned to see a conflicted expression occupying the black-haired bassist’s features. “What’s up?” she asked, her default cheerful grin on her face. “Did you wanna come with me?”

Though Yui had thrown out the suggestion on a whim, Mio appeared to be seriously considering the offer. Yui shifted from foot to foot as Mio thought, her desire to see and get power from her kouhai only getting stronger the longer she had to wait. The hand on her shoulder was a leash, preventing a dog from chasing a cat. While Yui waited impatiently on an answer, Ritsu took it upon herself to break the impasse. “Oh, no you don’t,” she asserted, thrusting herself menacingly between the two girls and staring down Mio. “You can’t just walk out of here and saddle Mugi and I with all of the work.”

Mio regarded Ritsu, her troubled look becoming replaced with indignation. “Ritsu, think about yesterday-” she cast a quick glance over to Yui before lowering her voice even more so Yui couldn’t hear.

_She’s acting weird. What happened yesterday? _Seeds of worry embedded themselves in Yui’s mind, but she shook her head to get them out, drawing a strange look from Tsumugi. _No, I have to ignore it. There’s no point in thinking about things like that. There’s nothing wrong._

Ritsu listened carefully while Yui pondered, then she snickered at Mio’s words. “Just let the kid handle it. You’re being paranoid,” she insisted.

A death glare was Mio’s answer to Ritsu’s lackadaisical attitude. “You’re not being cautious enough, baka Ritsu.”

“LOOK OUT, A GHOST!” Ritsu screamed, pointing directly behind Mio dramatically.

Though it was obviously bait, Mio and Yui took it spectacularly, the former turning around with a panicked gasp, only to spin back around to smack Ritsu on the head. By the time Yui realized that there was in fact no ghost and Ritsu was lying, the bassist and drummer had begun to bicker about the logistics of how ghosts work, and why they could or couldn’t appear and disappear in broad daylight. Amused, Yui looked on, a serene expression on her face. Her concern was forgotten as she observed two of her closest friends at each other’s throats. “They’re kindred spirits,” Tsumugi whispered, having appeared right next to Yui.

“Yeah,” Yui responded, unfazed. “Maybe it’s a childhood friend thing. Then again, Nodoka-chan and I don’t act like that.” She put a hand to her chin, as if she were observing a work of art.

“That’s true…” Tsumugi mused, also getting lost in her own world as she boxed the scene in with her fingers. “I was worried they’d never be able to argue like this again. Thinking about it that way, the reason isn’t as important.”

“It is nice to have things back to normal,” Yui added as Ritsu managed to snatch up a broom and quote _Romeo and Juliet_ threateningly at Mio, who responded by hurling an eraser at the drummer.

“We have you and that morning meeting to thank,” Tsumugi pointed out, a grateful smile on her face.

Yui’s gaze flitted to her desk. She had been trying to sleep through the day when her friends were around her, when Azusa was waiting for her in the clubroom. For the first time, Yui felt gratitude for the feeling of worry that kept her awake. “No, I’m the one that should be really thankful to you all, you know?”

The sound of fighting died down as Tsumugi tilted her head. “For what? If I remember correctly, Azusa-chan was the one who helped you sort things out the other day.”

Giggling, Yui shook her head. “Not that. I mean for everything. Without you all, I’d still be wasting my days sleeping and letting Ui-chan do everything for me. I mean, I still do that, but, um… You all make me really happy, every day! Azu-nyan, too. I can’t thank you four enough for everything you’ve done for me.” Without meaning to, Yui allowed a tear to roll down her cheek, sparkling brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight.

Tsumugi’s eyes shone, and she bounced up and down like an over-eager puppy that had just been handed a treat. Mio and Ritsu exchanged a look, something only they understood passing between them. “That’s sappy,” Ritsu determined, looking away with feigned disinterest.

The brunette’s mouth fell open in shock. “Ricchan, I was being honest! I love you guys! Don’t shoot me down like this! Ricchaaaaan!” Yui wailed, charging the drummer and shaking her shoulders until Ritsu pushed her attacker off.

“Geez, I didn’t say it was unwanted,” Ritsu added once Yui had stopped trying to kill her. “Just… don’t… you know what, tag out!” Ritsu slapped Mio on the shoulder and rapidly started sweeping with Mio’s broom while pretending she was the only person in the room.

“Baka...” Mio muttered ruefully, rubbing her shoulder. “You’ll pay for this later.”

Hiding her trepidation, Mio faced Yui, who had been watching the exchange with fascination. “Look, we appreciate what you said, more than you know. What _both of us_ were trying to say was that, whatever happens, we’ll support you and the others. That’s never going to change, no matter what.”

Somehow, the finality of Mio’s statement made it sound less reassuring to Yui than the girl had probably wanted it to. Questions about what the pair had been whispering about and what Mio meant bubbled around in her head, but her mind was too unfocused to make any sense of anything. Mio’s lukewarm expression told Yui that her own reaction wasn’t what Mio had been looking for. Before she could ask for clarification, however, Tsumugi spoke up. “Isn’t Azusa-chan still waiting for you, Yui-chan?”

Gasping, Yui smacked herself on the forehead. Her current task could wait. “Right! Azu-nyan! I’ll see you all in the clubroom! Thanks for the advice!” the brunette bolted out the door, leaving the rushed goodbyes of her three friends behind.

_Think about Mio-chan and Ricchan’s thing later. Get Azu-nyan energy now. I should know better than to leave her alone like this. Maybe this is fate saying I needed to be awake to keep Azu-nyan company! Fate’s the best! I’m coming, Azu-nyan! _

This new objective absorbed all of Yui’s attention as she dashed up the stairs at a speed that would make Ritsu jealous. When she carelessly threw open the clubroom door, she immediately trained her gaze on Azusa, who was standing pensively by herself in front of Ton’s tank.

“Azu-nyan!” Yui cried out ecstatically, stampeding towards her kouhai .

Azusa’s hugs to Yui were akin to plugging a phone into an outlet. The instant they connected, any sort of stress or exhaustion the senpai had picked up over the course of the day was ejected, to be quickly replaced by energy and comfort. Yui had always enjoyed hugs, but something about hugging her kouhai gave her a special boost to her energy that made her feel like she could play a concert by herself. Sadly, Azusa didn’t understand the importance of giving out hugs to Yui’s wellbeing. The senior’s advance was unceremoniously halted when Azusa held up a hand in her senpai’s face, the blatant denial stopping Yui dead in her tracks. “Not now, Yui-senpai,” Azusa dismissed distractedly, her focus entirely on Ton.

“There’s never a wrong time for refilling Azu-nyan energy!” Yui countered confidently, trying in vain to get past Azusa’s impregnable defense.

Two pigtails slithered through the air like black snakes as Azusa shook her head in exasperation. “Of all my senpais to show up in a crisis, it had to be Yui-senpai,” she lamented to Ton.

The insult was enough for Yui to stop trying to hug Azusa and huff indignantly, puffing up her cheeks. “Oi, I can be useful! Let me prove it! What’s the crisis?” In an attempt to appear confident, Yui tried to place her hands on her hips, only for the action to cause her bag to slip off of her shoulder and spill onto the ground.

On the bright side, Yui’s mistake convinced Azusa to look at her senpai, even if it was with clear disappointment. “Where are the others?” Azusa asked bluntly, kneeling down to help her senpai retrieve the items that had scattered from the senior’s bag.

When everything had been collected, Yui placed her bag on the table, in front of her own seat. As soon as the task was done, Azusa returned her attention to Ton as if nothing had happened. Yui frowned to herself. Azusa’s tone and behavior rang strangely to the brunette. _Something must be really wrong for Azu-nyan to act like this. Something happened between now and yesterday? Or she’s upset about something from the weekend. No, it doesn’t matter. Alright, Yui. Time to be a good senpai. You owe it to Azu-nyan._

“They have cleaning duty,” Yui belatedly responded, hoping that Azusa could hear how seriously she was trying to take the matter at hand. “What’s the problem? I want to help.”

After a brief moment of indecision, Azusa faced her senpai. To Yui’s bewilderment, there was a blush of embarrassment on Azusa’s cheeks. “I can’t find Ton-chan’s food,” she admitted, playing with her hands cutely.

A sigh of relief from Yui caused Azusa to glower. “Oh, that’s not a big deal,” she responded, writing off the clenching of Azusa’s fists with her words.

“It is a big deal!” Azusa insisted, stamping her foot on the ground. “Ton-chan won’t have anything to eat! It’s my job to feed him and I can’t even do that! How am I supposed to-” She cut herself off, turning away and crossing her arms without warning.

Yui observed her flustered kouhai. Dense as the older guitarist was, even she could understand that the issue meant something to Azusa. _She’s always too serious about things like this. It’s cute, but I wish she’d cut herself some slack once in a while. Guess it’s up to Yui-senpai. _The senior slapped herself on the cheeks to give herself confidence, leading Azusa to glance over her shoulder curiously at her senpai’s erratic behavior. _Focus. You can handle this. I can’t keep my promise to Azu-nyan if she’s feeling sad. _

“We’ll find his food,” Yui claimed reassuringly, placing one hand on Azusa’s shoulder in an attempt to imitate Mio’s commanding presence. “I’ll help you. Where haven’t you looked?”

Azusa continued to stare down her senpai suspiciously. It was tempting to smile reassuringly at her kouhai, but Yui found it within herself to maintain what she considered to be a serious expression. As the silence stretched on into unbearable territory, however, Yui could feel her façade coming apart at the seams. Various parts of her began to itch as she stood frozen under her kouhai’s scrutiny, begging for any sort of movement. Still, Yui held fast, determined to meet Azusa’s vaguely outlined expectations. “I haven’t checked Mugi-senpai’s tea cabinet or the storage room,” the kouhai eventually admitted.

Containing the giddiness born from her own success, Yui removed her hand and saluted immediately. “I’ll check the tea cabinet!” she exclaimed before rushing off to do just that.

As Yui started an exhaustive search of the cabinet where Tsumugi stored all of the club’s tea and food supplies, she overheard Azusa make her way into the storage room. The cabinet was practically overflowing with various tea supplies and snacks, as it had been since the dark day when Tsumugi had forgotten to replenish her supplies, leading to the starvation and near death of everyone in the room, as Yui remembered. She shivered at the unpleasant memory as she clumsily shoved aside teacups that Tsumugi had once told her were worth a small fortune. In between nearly destroying priceless ceramics and resisting the urge to nosh on a jar of cookies she came across, Yui’s attention was captivated by the cake that was to be their snack for the day. “Ne, does Ton-chan like cake?” Yui called out to Azusa, a brilliant idea forming in her mind.

A pair of pigtails poked out from behind the storage room door. “Come on, Yui-senpai, we can’t just feed him whatever we want!” Azusa exclaimed in exasperation. “If we feed him any of the junk food we eat in here, he’ll just get sick. He needs to eat his food and nothing else. Got it?”

Mortified by the potential consequences of her suggestion, Yui could only nod obediently. “Got it!”

“Then repeat what I just said,” Azusa ordered dubiously.

“Ton-chan only eats food for Ton-chan! Yui and Azu-nyan and the others only eat cake!” Yui parroted clearly and loudly, pretending one of her teachers had called on her in class.

Though Yui didn’t have a clear view of her kouhai, the sagging of the younger girl’s head told her more than she ever needed to know. “Good enough, I guess.” The pair of pigtails gave up and retreated to the storage closet.

Not allowing herself to be discouraged by the tepid response, Yui returned to her diligent searching. As she did, her mind again wandered to her kouhai. _I don’t think I’ve messed anything up recently to make Azu-nyan upset. I mean, I showed up to her house unannounced and then maybe I yelled at her through my playing and okay maybe I messed up a few days ago. But Ui said Azu-nyan was relieved that everything got worked out. I made up with mom and dad just like she wanted- no, like we wanted. There’s no way she could know about how I’m feeling, so is she really this upset about not being able to find Ton-chan’s food? I have to be overthinking this. That’s funny, in a sad sort of way. _

Yui’s train of thought was interrupted when she realized that she had finished searching the cabinet and come up empty on turtle food. She glanced over at the mostly closed storage room door, where Azusa could be heard rummaging around inside. It was tempting to attempt a second hug on her kouhai while she was distracted, but Yui shoved the urge down, chiding her childish desires. Instead, she completely opened the door to the storage room. Azusa was crouched in a corner, sorting through boxes of old club material, and didn’t look up. “No Ton-chan food in the cabinet!” Yui reported.

“Then you can check the other side of the closet.” Azusa pointed to another pile of boxes without looking up.

It dawned on Yui how unlikely it was that the food they were looking for would be anywhere in the storage closet as she resumed her search anew. Since their spring cleaning at the beginning of the school year, the five of them had kept things rather tidy, and the old boxes the two girls found themselves going though all had a fine layer of dust on them. On top of all of that, Azusa was usually the only one who handled Ton’s food, and if she had even an inkling that the food container might have been in here, she would have checked by the time Yui arrived. The dedication was admirable, at least to Yui. “I really admire you, you know?” Yui voiced her thoughts aloud.

The sound of a box hitting the floor echoed throughout the room. “Eh?” was the only reply Yui received as she continued to sort through old, well-used music supplies.

“I found it surprising too, to be honest. It was a happy surprise though, like cake with extra strawberries. I was worried that I had forced this on you when you weren’t willing, especially after your initial reactions, but I think things are working out the way they were supposed to, ne?” As Yui monologued, she failed to notice the turmoil she was putting her kouhai through.

“Y-Yui-senpai… What are you trying to say?” Azusa’s voice trembled.

Perplexed by the concern peppered into Azusa’s words, Yui spun around among her box pile to see her kouhai valiantly fighting off tears. The senior tilted her head. “I’m saying you must really care about Ton-chan, to be this worried about him. I admire your dedication. It makes me happy that you take care of him and like him so much.” Yui frowned at the younger guitarist. “What did you think I meant?”

For some unknown reason to the senior, her explanation aggravated Azusa. “Yui-senpai, you moron! Don’t phrase things like that!” The younger girl stepped forward and shoved her senpai towards the pile of boxes with both hands.

Though the assault had little force and less real aggression behind it, Yui was caught completely unprepared. The senior was already somewhat off balance due to her having to stand between several boxes to effectively search everything. With no purchase to save her, Yui toppled backwards, bringing down the pile of boxes she had been searching through with her. Boxes were strewn about the already cramped room, Yui landing on top of some while others landed on top of her. By some divine miracle, none of the boxes that fell on Yui were particularly heavy, and the boxes under her cushioned her fall. The collapse rattled the shelf next to the pile, causing a pink metal container to fall from the top of the shelf and bounce off of Yui’s arm and into her lap. The senior blinked, trying to process how she had gone from standing around some boxes to being covered in boxes on the ground. As this happened, Azusa stared at her hands in disbelief at what she had just done. Time began to move for the younger girl when Yui attempted to stand up and failed, slipping on the spilled contents of one of the boxes and further burying herself. “Yui-senpai, I’m so sorry! Here, let me help you up!” The kouhai rushed to her senpai’s side, frantically removing boxes from her senpai’s body.

With Azusa’s help, Yui managed to untangle herself from the mess of boxes the two had created. Azusa gave her senpai a once over, ensuring that she was still in one piece. She breathed a sigh of relief as her inspection was finished. “Thank God you’re okay. I’m really really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, honestly. I-I” The younger girl began to tear up once more.

Yui internalized the warm feeling running through her that came from the attention Azusa was giving her. She gave Azusa the most comforting smile she could muster. “It’s fine, Azu-nyan. Don’t cry. Oh, I know! We can just call it even now!”

The word struck a chord with the younger girl. “Even?” she repeated, an edge to her question.

“Yeah!” Yui chirped, her mind and mouth working at the same speed. “I yelled at you a few days ago, and you shoved me. We’re even now!”

Something about the look Azusa gave her senpai told Yui she didn’t believe that statement, but she nodded in agreement regardless. “I’m sorry anyways. I should control myself better. I need to- wait, you found Ton-chan’s food?” she blurted out, pointing to Yui’s hand

In that moment, Yui realized she was holding something. Without even thinking about it, she had picked up the container that had fallen into her lap. She was indeed holding the pink container for Ton’s food. “Oh yeah, I guess I did. We probably wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t bumped into the shelf like that. Good thing you shoved me!” she beamed triumphantly.

Azusa rolled her eyes. “Please don’t joke like that,” she requested harshly, a blush forming as she snatched the container from her senpai. “I’m going to feed Ton-chan. Would you mind starting on the mess in here?”

Yui’s face fell as the scattered music sheets and boxes suddenly felt far more threatening than they had when they were about to crush her. “What? Why do I have to do it? Azu-nyan’s the one who shoved me.” She crossed her arms and glared at her kouhai in the least intimidating way possible.

“Because I can’t trust you not to overfeed our turtle and I don’t want the others to know I almost lost Ton-chan’s food,” Azusa replied matter-of-factly. “I’ll help you when I’m done, alright?”

Though the deal was completely unfair in Yui’s eyes, she was unable to think of a proper argument before Azusa escaped from the storage closet to handle her Ton feeding duties. Accepting defeat, Yui set about organizing the mess she had made. She attempted to stay mad at Azusa as she worked, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. _Maybe I’m too soft with her? Nah. Azu-nyan works too hard for her own good. _

As it turned out, there was very little that needed to be done to restore the fragile order that was the organization of the storage room. In less than a minute or two, Yui was emerging from the closet to watch her kouhai finish feeding Ton. Azusa was standing in a similar spot to the one where Yui had found her when she first barged in, but now, a relaxed smile had replaced her somber expression. It occurred to Yui that this was the first time Azusa had smiled since Yui had exploded into the room, and the thought gave her enough pause that she didn’t move until Azusa finished her task. When the black-haired guitarist turned around and noticed the senior, her expression immediately became featureless once more. “Did you finish already? I appreciate it,” she thanked Yui nonchalantly.

Yui nodded in acknowledgement, leading to the both of them standing there, uncertain of what to do next. Distractedly, she wondered where the others were. Azusa fidgeted in uncharacteristic nervousness. Realizing that nothing was going to happen if she didn’t do something, Yui attempted to get to the heart of the matter. “Azu-nyan, would you like to play with- ”

“No,” Azusa shot down quickly and harshly.

Direct rejection certainly wasn’t what Yui was expecting, but she wasn’t entirely shocked. “That’s fair. I messed things up last time. I can tell you I won’t let it happen again, but I understand if you don’t want to.” Another thought occurred to her. “And don’t worry, I wouldn’t play like that for the band.”

Even before Yui finished speaking, Azusa was shaking her head. “That’s not it. I’m glad you were so… open with me.” Though she looked like she wanted to say more, no words followed.

The two fell into another awkward silence, contemplating their next moves like they could trigger a landmine. Yui’s gaze bored into the kouhai that wouldn’t return the favor. “It’s just me. I don’t bite,” Yui commented offhandedly, taking a few steps forwards so that she stood on the opposite side of the table from her kouhai.

Azusa flinched at Yui’s words, but remained mum. Yui frowned. _Dang it, I thought that’d work. What’s going on, Azu-nyan? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? I got everything back to normal for us. Why don’t we feel normal anymore? _

All of the older girl’s energy was seeping out of her body. Her initial purpose of retrieving power from being around Azusa had backfired, as the whole encounter left her far more tired than before. Without thinking about it, she started walking towards Azusa once more. Her body functioned on its own, honing in on the nearest source of energy it could detect. Azusa looked up when she noticed her senpai’s approach, but she didn’t do anything to react, not when Yui was right in front of her, and not when Yui embraced her tenderly. Though Azusa didn’t react at all, Yui could still feel her body begin to reawaken as she held her kouhai tightly. It was obvious that Azusa was doing her best to not react, but Yui couldn’t have possibly missed the tiny sigh of content that escaped her kouhai’s lips without permission. She smiled where Azusa couldn’t see her. It didn’t matter how wrong things were as long as she had Azusa and her friends with her. The peaceful moment could have gone on forever for all Yui cared, but Azusa didn’t allow it. “I don’t get you, Yui-senpai,” Azusa admitted softly, withdrawing herself from the embrace.

Yui allowed her kouhai to pull away, curiosity at Azusa’s words drawing her out of her dream. “What’s not to get?” she wondered aloud.

“I thought I understood you and the others by now,” Azusa faintly remarked, running a hand through her hair. “Everything made sense before that damn festival… now I don’t know anything. I told myself what I was going to do, and here I am snapping at you for my own mistakes. I don’t even have the courage to be honest, like you do.”

Shoving down the guilt that Yui couldn’t help but feel at Azusa’s last sentence, Yui endeavored to remain confident, more for her own sake than for Azusa’s. “Azu-nyan, if there’s something you don’t understand, you could just ask us. We’re your senpais. We’ll always do our best for you. It’s our job,” she reassured, hoping her words would get through whatever cloud of trouble was brewing around Azusa.

For an agonizing moment, Azusa thought to herself without a word. She sat down in her chair, silently prompting Yui to do the same. “Mio-senpai mentioned yesterday that you spent the night at her house last Saturday,” she started.

Yui nodded. “Yup. Mio-chan was really nice about it too.”

“She also said that the reason you came to my house on Sunday was because she told you to go there,” the younger girl continued, creating a timeline with her words and a nervous beat with her restless fingers.

Again, Yui nodded. “Uh-huh. Why do you bring it up?”

“I want to know why Mio-senpai told you to do that,” Azusa stated plainly, rising from her seat and placing both hands on the table as she leaned in towards her senpai.

“I dunno. Shouldn’t you ask Mio-chan that question?” Yui pointed out, giving Azusa a befuddled look.

Azusa grimaced, then sat herself back in her desk quickly, attempting to look like nothing had happened. “Um, well, speaking of a few days ago, you did make up with your parents, right?” she changed the topic with all the smoothness of a singer with the hiccups.

The rapid change in the discussion didn’t bother the senior. “Yeah! It’s all fine now. Wait, Ui did tell you that we made up, right?”

“O-of course!” Azusa insisted. “That’s not why I brought it up. I mean, um, I don’t understand why I was the one who convinced you to go home, and not Mio-senpai or one of the others.”

Yui regarded Azusa carefully. It was obvious that the younger guitarist hadn’t completely opened up, but Yui could at least feel that she was getting somewhere close to the root of the problem, and she seized the opportunity. “That’s what you don’t understand? That’s easy,” she claimed.

“Really? Explain it, then.” Azusa challenged.

Shrugging, Yui leaned back in her chair dangerously, unknowingly giving Azusa anxiety. “I asked the others for advice, and they all said some smart things, but you were the only one who made me look at the issue myself. Until you refused to move, I was just running away. I had to face the problem myself to realize I was being silly. You helped me realize that.”

Azusa was staring at Yui with a peculiar expression. Yui tilted her head and allowed her chair to crash back to the ground. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No, I just-” Azusa paused. “Any of us could have done that.”

“Probably, but you did it, Azu-nyan,” Yui pointed out cheekily. “It’s because Azu-nyan and I have a special connection.”

Azusa’s heart audibly skipped a beat. “N-no we don’t!” She protested. “We’ve been over this! We’re bandmates!”

Yui’s face fell. “You said we were friends,” she muttered. “You’re wishy-washy, Azu-nyan. We can’t be in a relationship if you’re gonna keep changing the name of it.”

The kouhai’s head dropped in disappointment. When she raised it again, the kouhai was a different person, her expression capable of murder. “This is what I’m talking about, Yui-senpai. We’re _not _in a relationship. We. Are. Friends. And as your _friend, _I’m telling you that we don’t have a special connection like that. You give people the wrong idea when you act and talk like that.”

“Like what?” Yui asked, not following.

“With the hugging, the nickname, feeding me, saying we have a special connection, do I need to go on?” Azusa stated dryly, listing off grievances on her fingers. “I have a list written down, if you’d like to see it.”

“But you like all that stuff,” Yui pointed out innocently.

“I-I do not!” Azusa insisted, momentarily flustered. “Damn it, Yui-senpai, listen to me! The only people who act the way you do are couples, and it’s giving everyone the wrong idea!”

Red colored Azusa’s cheeks, but rage, not embarrassment was the source. She had never sounded so angry with Yui before, and the older girl shrank in her seat a little. Ui wouldn’t ever raise her voice so menacingly like this. _Think. Think! Say something cool to calm Azu-nyan down! _

“So?” Yui countered, absurdly calmly. “It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“That’s the problem!” Azusa exclaimed in exasperation, ruining Yui’s delusion that she had nailed her line. “Nothing bothers you! You just act without giving a damn about the consequences of your actions. Have you ever bothered to ask how I feel about your hugs? Do you think I enjoy being treated like some sort of cute toy?”

The last part of Azusa’s question irked Yui in a way that surprised even her. “Is that how you think I see you?” Yui asked, her tone implying the inaccuracy of Azusa’s claim.

_You think that’s how I see Azu-nyan, Azu-nyan? That’s sad. You’re just as important as Mio-chan, Ricchan, Mugi-chan, Ui, and Nodoka-chan to me. Have I been giving you that impression this whole time? I can’t let that stand. _

Yui wasn’t exactly sure what was keeping her head so level as her thoughts spiraled. Her kouhai’s breathing had become irregular, her eyes burning with a fire Yui had only ever seen during performances, but Yui felt strangely serene. In a way, Yui felt more awake than she had all day, her senses absorbing every little piece of information to solve the problem in front of her, as if they had been waiting for this moment to use all of their energy for the day. Thanks to this, Yui’s ears picked up the sound of the clubroom door being lightly jostled. Azusa was too wrapped up in her own frustration to notice, but it was obvious to Yui that someone was standing outside the door. In the time it took Yui to process this, Azusa responded.

“What am I supposed to think?! If it’s not that, then you tell me why. What did I do to deserve to be treated like this?” Though the statement was clearly supposed to carry some finality to it, Azusa’s yelling wavered at the last moment, her own emotion cracking her voice.

Every part of Yui’s mind was on high alert. An immediate answer surfaced in her mind, but Yui forced herself to think harder, the weight of the situation finally starting to settle on the senior. _This is really bad. Azu-nyan is really upset. I don’t know what to do. What can I say to calm her down?_

“I like you, Azusa,” Yui responded, trying to keep things as simple as possible. “I like you and everyone in the club.”

“That’s not what I- Argh!” The younger girl pounded a fist on the table before rubbing her own hand in immediate regret. “This is impossible. I shouldn’t have brought this up. Forget I said anything,” she requested impossibly.

The kouhai slumped back into her chair, the strings of hostility that had held her body up snapping. Yui frowned at her victory, observing her calm, dejected junior. _I guess this proves I wasn’t overthinking things. I think I know what she’s getting at, but I can’t answer her honestly, not yet. But Azu-nyan doesn’t like how I treat her? I haven’t messed things up for her that badly, right? Maybe… maybe I really have. I’ve been relying on her too much without considering how she feels. I really am a terrible senpai. _

Tears formed in Yui’s eyes. Azusa’s brow furrowed in worry when she noticed, but she didn’t say anything. Two different kinds of sadness flowed from the two girls, one born from frustration, one from regret. Yui, for the first time, began to question her own actions regarding her kouhai. In the beginning, her purpose had been to make Azusa feel included, and of course Azusa’s cuteness had drawn the senpai in. Now, however, Yui realized that she wasn’t sure what drove her to be around Azusa, at least in such a physical manner. Did these things need a reason? They were friends, after all. The hugging and nickname were more of a habit than anything else at this point, right? Yui wanted to break the silence, to apologize for whatever course of action she had chosen to lead them to this point, but no winning move came to her. _We were doing so well, too. I know she doesn’t know how I feel. Everyone else was getting back to normal. I almost had things back to normal, Azu-nyan. But… maybe you really didn’t like normal. Gah, this is too much thinking! _

Utterly bested, Yui collapsed against the table, ending up in her classic desk sleeping position. Though Yui didn’t notice, Azusa eventually found her own head resting on the table, unable to distract herself otherwise. Some amount of time neither girl kept track of passed, and it was the opening of the clubroom door that convinced both girls to raise their heads once more. Mio and Ritsu barged into the clubroom with Tsumugi following meekly behind them. “Sorry we’re late!” Mio greeted, too casually.

Bright grey eyes immediately trained on Ton, only to darken when they noticed something next to his tank. Yui would have questioned the behavior if her mind wasn’t barely functioning. Ritsu and Tsumugi paused as they detected the unsavory atmosphere between the two girls who sat at the table without looking at each other. “Geez, who died in here?” Ritsu commented jokingly.

Neither Yui or Azusa responded, uncertain of what to do. Ritsu’s easy smile faltered as nobody so much as coughed at her joke. The drummer threw a pleading look to Tsumugi, who took it upon herself to save the situation as it rapidly descended into awkward territory. “Let’s have tea!” she suggested, though she didn’t leave any room for argument, whipping out her supplies with lightning quick efficiency.

Club activities proceeded in a similarly uncomfortable manner. Yui and Azusa failed to so much as touch their cake, let alone make conversation. The three other seniors in the room were left on edge. It was obvious that something had happened between the two guitarists in their absence, but neither party seemed to be willing to broach the subject. Perhaps more disturbing was how flawlessly Yui and Azusa played during practice. Azusa’s performance was more or less expected, but it was Yui that drew everyone’s attention. Yui’s infamous inability to even remember what song she was supposed to be playing during a set was absent, and she hit every note perfectly in line with her band. Her playing was so flawless that Ritsu checked to make sure Ui hadn’t replaced her sister again. Despite this pleasant turn of events, nobody was smiling as the last chords of My Love is a Stapler disappeared into the air. Their music had filled the clubroom, but every member of the band could tell that their emotions hadn’t. Though they had connected their sounds together, no message was delivered, each member looking for direction that wasn’t there, going through the motions of a band that cared.

Of all people, Azusa was the one who apologized as soon as they finished their set, insisting that she had an important prior commitment to meet. Nobody tried to stop the junior as she packed her things and said her goodbyes, but Mio and Ritsu quickly followed the younger girl out the door together. Mio claimed that they wanted to finish some homework, but her expression told a completely different story. It was obvious that they were following Azusa for reasons that Yui couldn’t fathom, but she couldn’t bring herself to join the trio. Her mind had been more or less blank for the last hour or so. What thoughts she did have were focused entirely on Azusa and what she had done wrong. The worry that she had pushed her kouhai too far ate away at her conscious like nothing sans the longevity of their band itself ever had before. Whenever a difficult issue bothered Yui, she just pushed it out of her mind until it disappeared forever, or solved it immediately if it was something related to needing food, sleep or warmth. She’d never had a major problem that affected someone other than her before, if she didn’t count that time Ui got sick. Now, she had no idea how to move forward, and remained rooted to the spot where she stood, Giita still in hand. Tsumugi, ignoring her friend’s condition, had put away her keyboard and was in the process of cleaning up the tea cups left behind by after school tea time.

As Tsumugi inspected the cups, she noticed small scratches that weren’t there before but decided not to comment. Steeling her nerves for the conversation to come, she turned towards Yui, who was staring out at nothing. “Your playing today was superb, Yui-chan,” the heiress praised kindly.

Yui blinked a few times, processing that she was now alone with Tsumugi, that Azusa had left her behind. She silently began to put her away her guitar, her only thoughts on getting home so she could be alone. Tsumugi realized she was being ignored, and tried again. “Yui-chan, did something happen between you and Azusa-chan?” she probed.

“How much did you hear?” Yui responded while zipping up her bag, not in the mood to play games for once.

Caught red-handed, Tsumugi blushed in embarrassment, nearly dropping the tea cup she was holding. “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear!” she insisted. “I just thought I’d arrive before the others to get the tea ready, and then I heard yelling, and then Mio-chan and Ricchan showed up before I could go back, and I-”

“Relax, Mugi-chan,” Yui reassured, stopping her friend from hyperventilating. “I’m not angry. How much did you hear?”

“Everything after the part where you mentioned a special connection,” Tsumugi admitted, tracing the rim of a tea cup guiltily.

Realizing that she needed to reassure her friend, Yui placed her bags on the ground and helped Tsumugi finish putting away her tea supplies. Together, the task was finished quickly, and Yui had a chance to think while Tsumugi was distracted. “So you heard most of it,” the brunette revealed as they closed the cabinet. “What do I do? I’ve never seen Azu-nyan so upset before.”

Tsumugi thought for a moment, allowing the two girls to pick up their respective bags, their task completed. “I don’t think Azusa-chan meant everything she said,” the blonde ventured. “She’s not the type to let something like this fester without saying something.”

“That just makes things more complicated,” Yui sighed, fatigue inspiring her to start towards the door and home, where Ui and sleep awaited her.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Tsumugi added helpfully while casually moving to block Yui’s escape. “But I do know this: she really cares about you and the rest of us. She doesn’t think you’re a bad senpai. She knows you do your best.”

“What if my best isn’t good enough, though?” Yui blurted out without thinking, looking for a way around the blonde heiress. “What if I’m just holding her back? She doesn’t deserve a senpai like me.”

A serene yet mysterious smile stood between Yui and freedom. Subtlety was dropped as Tsumugi leaned against the door, making it clear that she wanted to be heard out. “The fact that you think that way means you really care about her, and as far as I know, that’s the most important thing that senpais and kouhais need to have for each other,” Tsumugi observed sagely.

“She seemed really confused while we were searching for Ton-chan’s food,” Yui added, resigning herself to sitting on the couch until the heiress deigned to release her. “She treated it like it was some massive deal when it wasn’t. I mean, we could have just fed Ton-chan cake. Everyone loves cake.” She left out the fact that neither she nor Azusa had eaten their cake today.

In the moment, Yui failed to notice that Tsumugi failed to be surprised that Azusa had managed to lose Ton’s food. “I’d say that you’re in a similar position, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi pointed out.

Yui’s head snapped towards the blonde. Her brown eyes had a fiery glow to them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she warned.

The dangerous look Yui attempted reminded Tsumugi of a puppy that thought it was sneaking up on its mother. “You can’t hide how you’re feeling when you play from me, Yui-chan. You could trick the others with that performance, but not me.”

“Sure I can,” Yui defended lamely, her persona deflating.

Tsumugi shook her head, placing her bag on the ground against the door. “We’ve known each other too long for that, Yui-chan. I know you’re hurting. You were the one who wanted us to be open with each other.”

“Then what do I do?” Yui cried out. “I don’t want Azu-nyan to hate me, but she said she wanted things to go back to normal! I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? I…I don’t want to lose any of you!” Yui began to tear up, falling sideways against the blue leather surface of the couch.

Swiftly, Tsumugi reacted by taking up a seated position at the other end of the couch. She gingerly moved Yui’s head from the couch to her lap, stroking her friend’s hair gently while Yui continued to let her worries out through tears. It wasn’t Azusa, but Yui melted into her friend’s disarming presence all the same. Tsumugi held on to Yui until her tears stopped flowing, after which Yui managed to sit up, sniffling and apologizing for her behavior. When she was certain that her friend had all but completely recovered, Tsumugi gave her friend an understanding smile. “Don’t apologize, Yui-chan. Sometimes we need to let things out, even if we don’t really know what we’re trying to say.”

A distant expression absorbed Tsumugi as she spoke, even more contemplative than her normal one. Yui looked on in awe at her friend. “You’re really smart, Mugi-chan,” the guitarist observed, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. “How do you know so much?”

“You’re flattering, but wrong, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi deflected, blushing a little. “We’re all dealing with the same problem, but I just have a bit more experience, which is another reason why I want to help you and everyone.”

Yui wanted to ask what Tsumugi meant by that, but the dark look Tsumugi gave something only she could see told Yui it was better not to ask. Instead, she focused in on the topic at hand. “So what should I do?”

Tsumugi brought herself back to reality. “You want to help Azusa-chan too, right?” the heiress confirmed, earning an empathetic nod from Yui. “I’m afraid Azusa-chan is taking the idea of separation worse than the rest of us, despite everyone’s acknowledgement of the problem.”

“I want to help her,” Yui insisted, bouncing up and down in her seat. “I want us to stay together, and she said she does too. Maybe I should pretend nothing happened?”

“If we tried that, something like this would definitely happen again, and the consequences would be more severe, perhaps irreversible,” Tsumugi explained patiently. “We can’t keep this up, though I’d like to. We have to face the music, Yui-chan. If we want to help Azusa-chan, we must accept that we’re going to go our separate ways at some point.”

“It’s not fair!” Yui cried out, startling even herself with her mood swing as she slapped her hands against her legs in frustration. “Why do we have to spilt up if we care about each other so much?

Yui knew she was being extremely childish, but she didn’t couldn’t care less. Hearing the words out loud instead of in her head shattered the fragile balancing act she had been performing internally. _Why, fate? Why do we have to split up? I just wanted us to stay together. I don’t need anything else. Just… just… _

“I know you’ve been trying to help us, and I really appreciate it,” Tsumugi interrupted Yui’s sorrows. “But if you don’t try to help yourself, it’ll make things worse for everyone.”

It was Yui’s turn to be caught red-handed. “I thought nobody noticed,” she muttered. “You weren’t supposed to see me upset about this. I’m supposed to be the one who doesn’t get worried about these things.”

Tsumugi shook her head. “Nobody is always happy, Yui-chan, not even you. Even if I hadn’t noticed by now, I would have sooner or later, and the others will too if they haven’t already, especially Azusa-chan. This… isn’t something we can fix with one meeting. Emotions are fickle, but you have more influence on everyone else than you think you do.” Her words strangely echoed something similar that Mio had mentioned earlier.

“Eh? What do you mean by that?” Yui asked, forgetting her issues for an instant.

As if she realized she had been talking aloud, Tsumugi giggled to cover up her mistake. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.” She stood up, offering her friend a hand. “In any case, I have an idea that may help both you and Azusa-chan, if you’re interested.”

Eagerly, Yui took Tsumugi’s hand, letting her eyes express her interest as she stood up. Tsumugi smiled mysteriously. “When I have something important to think about, it helps me to go where nobody can see or hear me. Not somewhere I spend a lot of time already, though, like my room. When I have a place to do my thinking, then it’s easier to get through the rest of the day knowing that I can go to that place to deal with what’s bothering me, instead of letting it bother me throughout the day. For you, I bet the roof across the way from here would work.”

The entirety of Yui’s mind began to overheat. It was hard enough thinking unwanted thoughts about her issues a few times each day, and Tsumugi’s suggestion of inviting such contemplation sounded like a terrible idea. At the same time, Yui had no ideas of her own. “How does this help?” she asked, a bit cautious.

“It certainly couldn’t hurt,” Tsumugi responded noncommittally. “To be honest, our graduation isn’t the kind of problem that usually has a solution.”

Yui waited for Tsumugi to elaborate, to point to the way out of the problem, but the blonde had chosen to fall silent. Realization dawned on Yui as the two of them retrieved their respective bags. _It’s not just me, and it’s not just Azu-nyan. Mugi-chan’s right. I can’t expect talking to them once to fix everything, when it didn’t work for me either. I… need to come up with another plan. But I’m no good at planning things. I have to try, though. If nothing else, I have to find a way to be happy, so they’ll be happy too. If there’s even a tiny chance that this helps everyone, I have to give it a shot. I will keep everyone together for a long time._

“Then I’ll do my best!” Yui exclaimed, raising her left hand in affirmation and startling Tsumugi. “I’ll confront it head on so I can get everything back to normal!”

Tsumugi giggled as soon as she recovered. “If anyone can do it, you can, Yui-chan. Don’t be afraid to lean on us, though. We’re all here for each other. That’s what we promised, right?”

The guitarist opened the clubroom door so she didn’t have to meet Tsumugi’s expectant look. “I’ll do my best,” she repeated, the mantra ringing over and over in her head. “I’m not going to let things end like this.”

Thankfully, Tsumugi accepted the response at face value. The two best friends made their way out of the clubroom in a silence more comfortable than Yui had felt in weeks. Only after they went their separate ways at the train station did Yui finally allow herself to inspect the throbbing pain in her arm. She hadn’t noticed it when she fell, but during practice, her right forearm had begun to flare up with spikes of pain strong enough to nearly draw her out of her doldrums. None of the others had noticed, distracted by Yui’s impeccable playing, but the pain had been the only thing Yui felt when she had been playing. She was rather fortunate that it had died down when she finished, or she would have ended up having a very different conversation with Tsumugi. She rolled up her sleeve, staring at the decently sized bruise forming where her arm had collided with a rather cruel box. Poking the spot elicited a wince from the senior. _Ui’s going to need to look at this. I can’t let Azu-nyan get in trouble for it though. _

Yui fixed her uniform and continued her walk, pushing the pain of her injury away for the moment. “Listen up, fate,” Yui declared, pointing at the sky as she walked. “I’m going to solve this problem. I’m going make everyone happy again, no matter what it takes. No more pretending it’s someone else’s fault, or that I can hide from this without doing anything. I’ll be a senpai Azu-nyan can be proud of. Just… give me some time to figure out how to do it, okay? I promise I’ll do my best to keep us together, so give me some time, okay?”

The words rang out into the empty air. As Yui began to focus on remembering the way home, a black cat darted across her path, likely startled by Yui’s ranting. Despite the unlucky implications of the action, Yui smiled. Cats only ever brought a certain kouhai to mind, and even given the current situation, Azusa in cat ears couldn’t not make the senior’s eyes light up. Azusa’s words from earlier, however, quickly brought Yui back down to earth. _How I feel about Azu-nyan, how I see her. She wants to know, too. But I can’t talk about that, not yet. It’d just make things worse if I can’t give her an honest answer. I have to focus on making everyone happy first. Azu-nyan wants things to be normal._

“Azu-nyan… I’ll be honest with you, too, if I can,” Yui whispered as the black cat disappeared from her vision.


	9. I want everyone to practice seriously

**November 9th, 2nd Year PE Class**

For the fifth straight basket that game, Ui Hirasawa was grateful that she picked new things up quickly. An outsider would look at Ui’s current performance and assume she had been playing basketball for years, or at least more than one day. Despite Ui’s faith in her rapidly developing ability, she had fully expected to be handily beaten by the girls from the basketball club at their own sport. Poring over that basketball manga from the library turned out to yield far more benefits than the younger Hirasawa sister had initially anticipated. Why simply learning about the game was enough for Ui to fully understand and execute the movements she had witnessed was a mystery not even Ui could solve, not that she was trying to. If fate chose to bestow such ability on her, the least she could do was use it when she needed to. It wasn’t as if the game itself mattered in any capacity to the junior. Sure, there was the benefit the winning trio being given a brief reprieve from playing by whomever Ui’s eccentric PE coach saw fit to replace the winners with. Even with that, however, the 3-minute timer and 4 active half-courts meant nobody in her class could avoid playing for long, sans the lucky scorekeepers. No, what Ui was truly grateful to her ability for was the free time to formulate a plan to combat the machinations of her airhead of a sister.

Ui had nearly fainted yesterday when Yui had come home bearing such an ugly bruise on her right arm. The senior had tried to blow it off like it was no big deal, but Ui wasn’t satisfied until she had completed a full inspection using medical knowledge she had accumulated over years of caring for her clumsy sister’s injuries. The real damage behind the unsightly mix of brown and purple was fortunately minimal, but the initial scare had taken a month or two from Ui’s life nonetheless. The same fear Ui felt then was now reflected in her guard, whom Ui was currently terrifying the red sweatpants off of as she tried in vain to defend against her. Sighing to herself, Ui faked a drive to the right and faded backwards to set up and execute a flawless three-point shot. Her guard was completely fooled by the amateur move that Ui assumed a competent player would have seen through, and the younger sister even had time to correct her form as she prepared her shot. As the score gap was expanded to double digits, Ui’s irritation at her situation spiked right along with her dejected opponents.

_Onee-chan’s hiding things from me again. First she won’t talk about what happened with mom and dad, and now this. There’s no way she could get an injury like that from falling down the stairs. Honestly, Onee-chan knows I’ve seen her fall down the stairs almost every morning. She could have thought of a better lie than that. The impact would have to be much more pronounced for her than it would for a normal human. I could ask Azusa-chan about it, but I don’t want to upset her if she doesn’t know anything already. Not only that, but we just made up. I need to approach my inquiries regarding my sister more tactfully with Azusa-chan and others from now on. I promised Onee-chan, after all. The least I can do if she doesn’t want to talk about it is try to be more courteous with my friends. Perhaps I should get Jun-chan’s help with this…_

The brunette’s thought process stalled as she focused on shutting down the opposing team’s hopes of scoring a basket. Her two teammates were doing little more than standing next to the girls on the other team, but it was more than enough to remove every option the girl with the ball had other than attempting to make her way past Ui. Idly, Ui considered stealing the ball and going for another basket, but ultimately decided to restrain herself, allowing the 3-minute timer to run down while her foe pitifully failed to find an opening. Squeaking tennis shoes and frustrated dribbling were mercifully ended by the fortunate girl assigned to referee their quarter-court. After high-fiving her teammates and bowing respectfully to her jealous opponents, Ui allowed herself to relax a little, a fine sheen of sweat covering her brow. She cast a glance over to the portly PE coach, who was staring at her with poorly disguised interest. Ui frowned, knowing exactly what was happening. Thinking quickly, she pretended to trip over nothing, a trick she had picked up from watching her older sister pull it off constantly, usually to comedic effect. By the time her teammates had managed to pick Ui up, the coach had looked away.

Relieved, Ui allowed her breathing to completely normalize. She wasn’t interested in drawing too much attention from any sort of club recruiters, especially since no club she’d even spoken to accepted ‘taking care of my older sister’ as an acceptable reason not to be in a club, particularly for someone of her ability. Despite her valiant efforts to hold back, Ui wasn’t always able to suppress what came to her naturally enough to avoid unwanted attention. _Am I the only non-club member who learned how to play basketball like they told us to? I suppose it’s not the most popular sport in the world among girls. Well, I’ll just lose the next game, then. Take that, recruiters! Ui is OFF the market! I’m president of the take care of Onee-chan club!_

Feeling rather proud of herself, Ui’s gaze swept over the sidelines, searching for one or both of her friends. Her teammates melted into the background as Ui found and focused on Jun, who was doing her best wallflower impression near the water fountain. The frizzy-haired bassist was leaning against the wall so as little of her as possible was visible to the coach. Thanks to her strategy, the coach didn’t select Jun as one of the replacements for Ui’s team. Shaking her head to herself, Ui made her way over to her conniving friend. Though Ui didn’t personally agree with the coach’s methods of having the class participate at the mercy of his random whims, she wasn’t going to argue or plot against what was essentially a free grade for showing up. Jun was not Ui, and was doing everything in her power to make herself inconspicuous in her coaches’ eyes, from hiding behind water fountains to removing her red sweatshirt to avoid standing out. As Ui approached, Jun attempted to shoo her away. “Don’t come over here! You’ll make him look at me!” she insisted, almost pleaded.

“You’re going to have to play eventually,” Ui pointed out, leaning over to drink from the water fountain. “Unless you want to be failing gym again this semester.”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t need your reminder,” The grumpy junior responded gruffly, allowing her head to sink in defeat as she slipped her sweatshirt back on. “I don’t have the ability to win every game that you do, so I have to pick and choose my battles carefully. You gotta get the smallest amount of participation possible. It’s math or something.”

Begrudgingly swallowing the unnaturally warm liquid, Ui frowned at her friend. “Having me on your team doesn’t mean that team will win. I’m not a basketball player, unlike some of our fellow students.” The Hirasawa pointed out some of the taller girls in their class, indicating her own small stature for reference.

Jun scoffed, rising to her own full height, which didn’t surpass Ui by much more than a centimeter or two. “Don’t pretend you didn’t just traumatize that girl for the next few weeks with that juke. I saw her crying. _Crying. _Mingling with mortals like us should be against the rules for you.”

Though Ui knew Jun was trying and succeeding at getting a rise out of her friend, the junior couldn’t help but pout. “Come on, Jun-chan, you know I don’t like it when you hype me up like that. I’m not perfect by any means.” She paused to take in the disapproving look her friend was giving her, concern over her actions replacing frustration. “Honestly though, did I overdo it? I didn’t spend as much time researching how basketball works as I did for our track and field unit. I thought I was taking it easier on them.”

To Ui’s chagrin, Jun rolled her eyes. “The fact that you’re researching anything for PE is an affront to the athletic merit system. God help whoever stands in your way if you decide to take anything other than your sister seriously.” The bassist folded her arms and reclaimed her spot on the wall in a huff.

The last comment, as well as most of the others, felt a bit unnecessary to Ui, but she chose to let it go. PE always left Jun in an unsavory mood, as it put her lack of athleticism on full display, at least compared to her two closest friends. It was tempting to broach the subject of Yui’s injury with an impartial third party like Jun, but Ui supposed detective work would have to wait until her friend was of a fairer temperament. “Are you sure you can’t come to the party on Sunday?” Ui asked, deciding to change the subject. “I’m sure my sister and the others wouldn’t mind the company.”

Before Ui was even done speaking, Jun was sighing dramatically and shaking her head. “Believe me, I’d love to be there to celebrate Nakano’s birthday with you all, but I literally can’t get out of monthly family dinners, especially since Acchan is attending.” Jun realized she was receiving a puzzled look. “My older brother,” she clarified.

“I suppose it really can’t be helped, then,” Ui admitted in resignation, joining Jun against the wall. “Did you at least get Azusa-chan something?”

Jun scoffed. “Of course. I’m busy, not heartless. I’ll give it to her on her actual birthday. Speaking of Azusa, check that out. I think someone’s taking tryhard lessons from you.” The frizzy-haired brunette pointed ominously towards the active basketball game on the closest quarter of the court.

Ui followed Jun’s finger, her brow furrowing when she realized that she wasn’t the only one playing circles around her classmates. Azusa was currently driving through two girls who dwarfed her in height, using her smaller stature to slip right between them and make a layup look so easy that Jun could probably do it if she tried. The score of her game was closer than Ui’s, with Azusa’s team up by only four points, but no move made by the opposing team went unanswered by Azusa. Every successful drive by Azusa’s foes was replicated with unnerving efficiency. Her teammates functioned more akin to a ball and chain Azusa was dragging around rather than members of her team, allowing the opposite side to score points Azusa would immediately make up. Despite the give and take of the score discrepancy, it was obvious to anyone watching who was in control of the game’s pace. Ui would have been proud and excited for her friend if she didn’t look like she was about to drop dead on the court. The guitarist had clearly begun pushing against the already low limits of her stamina in what was probably her 3rd or 4th game, her face beet red with exertion, sweat flying in every conceivable direction when she moved. “She’s pushing herself rather hard,” Ui commented, unease creeping up on her.

“Can’t blame her for wanting to get off the court,” Jun responded nonchalantly, closing her eyes in feigned boredom. “But that’s probably not why she’s trying to lose a kilo in sweat. The last time she tried this hard, she almost broke Ritsu-senpai’s 100m dash record. You think something’s eating at her?”

Placing a hand under her chin, Ui contemplated the scene in front of her and Jun’s suggestion. Azusa’s behavior was certainly out of the ordinary, but she wasn’t about to start jumping to conclusions again. “Who knows. I don’t want to pry into Azusa-chan’s affairs if I can avoid it. I just got done apologizing to her for that.”

Jun raised an eyebrow. “Apologizing, eh? I told you that confronting her over Yui-senpai was a bad idea. She can barely deal with the fact that Yui-senpai is into her, let alone whatever’s been keeping her so moody for the past week and a half.”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong about that,” Ui insisted indignantly. “They’re all just upset about the impending graduation. I am too, to be honest. Onee-chan depends on me, and I depend on her. I don’t know what I’m going to do, alone without Onee-chan next year.” Just saying the words aloud was enough to depress Ui’s mood, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jun.

The frizzy-haired brunette shook her head condescendingly, rapping a knuckle on the top of Ui’s head in a firm yet friendly manner. “Calm down, Yui-senpai’s mom. Azusa and I aren’t going anywhere. And I don’t think Yui-senpai will last long in the wild without constantly visiting you.”

A playful grin danced across Jun’s face as Ui let Jun’s words sink in. _She’s right. I’m not going to be alone. Onee-chan and I will be together again after a year anyways. I can wait that long. I’ve done it before. _The sound of a basketball bricking against a basketball hoop snapped Ui out of her thoughts.

“Thanks, Jun-chan. I needed to hear that.” Ui bowed in gratitude to her friend.

Smirking, Jun waved off her friend’s bow. “Don’t mention it. It’s what friends are for.” The kind tone Jun had been using took a turn for the mischievous as she refocused on the game. “We have to support each other, like this: GO AZUSA! YOU GOT THIS!” Jun yelled at the top of her lungs, cupping her hands around her mouth.

At the sound of her name, Azusa’s and almost everyone else’s attention was completely pulled from the game. The massive distraction allowed the player she was defending to sink an easy three pointer, right as the score keeper blew the whistle to end the game. Were it not for the fact that Azusa’s team was barely ahead enough to win, Azusa’s look could have killed a woman three times Jun’s size. As it stood, Jun’s cocky demeanor only withered nervously as the third friend in their trio distractedly thanked her teammates for the game before stalking over to the two of them. Amused by her friend’s antics despite herself, Ui giggled guiltily, which only caused Jun to panic, mumbling about how this wasn’t how she wanted Ui to start feeling better. Jun was in the middle of what was becoming an unsuccessful attempt to hide behind UI when one Azusa Nakano suddenly appeared right in her face. “Hello, Jun-chan,” Azusa greeted, her tone impossibly formal, contradicting her exhausted body language.

“O-oh hey, Azusa, didn’t see you there, heh,” Jun joked from behind Ui, trying and failing to laugh naturally.

Not wanting to be anywhere between her friends in this particular moment, Ui used a move she had picked up from the previous game to put Jun between herself and Azusa. By the time Jun could blink, there was nothing protecting her from Azusa’s bloodlust. “That’s strange, you didn’t seem to have any problems picking me out when I was in the middle of a game,” Azusa pointed out icily.

Ui frowned. Azusa was taking the interruption far more seriously than she had anticipated, inciting her to step forward once more. “Come on, Azusa-chan, Jun-chan made a mistake. It happens. You won anyways. No harm done, right?” She attempted a cheery smile to lighten the mood.

Azusa looked like she desperately wanted to say something, but she held her tongue as she stared at her friend. The girl’s eyes slightly softened, but her posture remained painfully rigid. “You’re right. It’s my fault for getting distracted. If I can’t take the game seriously, I deserve to make mistakes.” Without another word, she retreated to the water fountain.

Exchanging a look with a befuddled Jun was all Ui needed to confirm that something was definitely wrong. Azusa could be a bit cold or insensitive at times, but right now she was the queen of the south pole. Ui leaned over to whisper in Jun’s ear. “This is wrong. We should say something,” she silently implored her friend.

Jun shook her head in vehement denial. “NO!” she hissed directly in Ui’s ear, causing her to wince. “I don’t care how much money you have; you are not, I repeat NOT poking that cat right now!”

Frowning, Ui tilted her head, making sure not to bump into Jun in the process. “Why not? We can’t just ignore this. That’s how problems get worse.”

_“_What are we whispering about?” Azusa interrupted, startling both of her friends into pulling a few feet away from each other.

“Um, nothing!” Ui spouted out swiftly, recovering far faster than Jun. “We were just impressed by how well you were playing out there. Where’d you learn those moves?”

Startled, Azusa rubbed the back of her neck bashfully. “Oh, was I that interesting to watch? I was just winging it. I had a lot on my mind, so I just kind of copied what everyone else was doing.”

_Just like me, huh? _Ui almost spoke the thought aloud, but she held herself back. _No, that’s practically yelling that something’s wrong. I can’t be the one to instigate something._

While Ui moved on to wonder how Azusa had practically returned to normal in the span of seconds, a vein began bulging out of Jun’s head. “You two are insufferable,” she accused out of the blue, capturing her friend’s distracted attention. “How’s a girl supposed to get ahead when you two win without even trying?” she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Hey, does this look like not trying?” Azusa butted in, indicating her state of exhaustion while panting heavily for good measure.

“I did some research,” Ui reminded her friend sheepishly. _If you count manga as literature._

Jun’s demeanor didn’t improve. “Then you’re both trying way too hard for freaking PE class. Makes a girl sick, seeing people slave away for something so unimportant. I pity you both.” A heated huff escaped the girl’s lips as she turned away, crossing her arms.

Ui and Azusa took their turn to exchange a look. Understanding flashed in both girl’s eyes, and they smiled knowingly. “Jun-chan,” Azusa prompted sweetly, tapping her friend on the shoulder.

“What?” Jun responded dismissively, turning only her head back to look at her friends.

“Did you want to be on our team for the next game?” Ui asked magnanimously.

Instantly, Jun fell to her knees, bowing graciously at the feet of Ui and Azusa. “Thank you, basketball senseis. I have nothing but the utmost respect for your intense passion for the game of champions. I shall endeavor to perform at a level that meets your impossibly high expectations.”

By the time the frizzy-haired girl stood up, Azusa and Ui were barely suppressing laughter over Jun’s posh accent. Jun took an overexaggerated bow for her performance, and all three girls ended up in a giggling fit that lasted longer than Ui could recall. When everyone eventually calmed down, Jun left to convince the coach to put the three of them on a team together, leaving Azusa and Ui alone. Unwilling to remain idle, Azusa scooped up a wayward basketball and started to pass it back and forth with Ui while they waited.

At some point, Ui assumed that the two of them would have started talking about something. The only sound either girl produced was the sharp smacking of the basketball on the polished hardwood as it moved from one set of hands to the other. Ui tried to meet Azusa’s eyes, but the guitarist had her focus trained firmly on the ball, any visage of her old self from the previous conversation drowned in an expression of silent contemplation. Every bounce pass felt like it was plucking the cord of tension that had slowly become taut between Ui and Azusa without Ui noticing. _What am I supposed to say here? Azusa-chan obviously doesn’t want to talk right now. I guess we don’t have to talk about anything. Just hanging out and passing a ball around is nice too. Do I even want to talk right now? I want to pry about Onee-chan’s injury, but that might just make Azusa-chan angry for assuming she has something to do with it. Well, not every issue has to be resolved immediately. Onee-chan will be fine. I’m fine. Azusa-chan and Jun-chan are fine. They’ll talk if they want to. This is fine._

“I hate basketball,” Azusa interrupted into Ui’s repetitive silence, passing the ball with a bit more power than she probably meant to. “I don’t have the body for a game like this.”

With effort, Ui managed not to react as she caught the ball and returned it to its sender. “Why are you trying so hard then?” she asked, allowing Azusa to direct conversation.

Azusa didn’t respond immediately. She caught the ball, turning it over a few times in her hands before passing it back. “I have a lot of steam to blow off, I guess. Nothing makes sense anymore, Ui-chan. I don’t think I even know who my own senpais are anymore, especially Yui-senpai. Maybe I was just pretending I understood them.” Regret tinged Azusa’s tone.

“Onee-chan is Onee-chan,” Ui pointed out simply, trying out a one-handed pass she had seen the main character of the basketball manga do. “It’d be stranger if you did understand everything about her. If you ask me, I’d guess that it’s probably all in your head.”

Another thought occurred to Ui while Azusa struggled to recover the pass Ui had sent careening off into the wall on the other side of the gym. As she apologized to Azusa for her stunt, her exchange with Jun a moment ago reverberated in her mind. “Even so, I think I understand where you’re coming from. People build up expectations that may or may not be true based on their own biased observations, and will hold to them religiously unless explicitly proven otherwise, and sometimes not even then. We don’t like to change our opinions.” She held out her hands invitingly for a pass that Azusa unenthusiastically provided.

“Even if it’s in my head, I’ve made some stupid mistakes over the past few days,” Azusa admitted, now passing the ball without catching it, treating it like a volleyball. “I’ve yelled at you, Yui-senpai, Ritsu-senpai, and Mio-senpai, and Mugi-senpai… well, Mugi-senpai has been fine, but I’m a bit worried she might still think I’m possessed.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Azusa’s lips at her last comment, though it was gone before Ui could confirm it. Ui put out her most encouraging smile. “Don’t take it too seriously, Azusa-chan. If you just apologize, I’m sure things will work themselves out. I know they care too much to let something like that bother them.”

“You think so?” Azusa uncertainly asked, catching and balancing the basketball precariously on one finger.

“Of course! It worked for me, didn’t it?” Ui replied, hoping she had enough certainty for the both of them.

The ball fell to the ground, and Azusa nodded to herself, sending out a friendly pass. “That’s true. It can’t hurt to try, if there’s a chance it’ll improve things. We can barely practice properly as things are.”

Ui’s eyes lit up as she saw some of her friend start to return. Eagerly, she continued her original thought. “It’ll definitely help, especially with Onee-chan. She’s not one to let things bother her for too long. She didn’t even let her injury stop her from coming to school today because she wanted to practice. Actually, I was hoping to ask you to make sure she doesn’t- Azusa-chan?”

The ball Ui had passed bounced straight into Azusa’s stomach before falling to the ground, untouched by Azusa’s hands. It was as if someone had swapped Azusa out for a cardboard cutout of herself. “Injury…?” Azusa echoed, almost in disbelief, before shaking her head and picking up the ball with more energy than she had used on the court. “What injury?” she asked, pretending the last five seconds hadn’t happened.

Dubious as she was at Azusa’s reaction, Ui didn’t force the issue. Telling herself that she couldn’t be the one to bring up Azusa’s problems for her, Ui answered the question. “Um, she has a bad bruise on her arm. It’s not serious, but it looks like it hurts. According to her, she fell down the stairs, but personally, I think she did something embarrassing and doesn’t want to tell me about it. I was going to ask if you would make sure she doesn’t overdo it at practice today. I would hate for her to make it worse than it is by straining her arm playing guitar.”

Each word out of Ui’s mouth seemed to decrease the saturation on Azusa’s face by a shade. She had to unclench her fists to catch each pass, only to immediately ball them up again. For five or six passes, Ui’s anecdote hung unanswered in the air. Ui silently judged Azusa’s behavior. Despite her own insistence at being respectful about personal things, it was extremely tempting for her to ask Azusa what was going on. “I have a weird question to ask,” Azusa declared suddenly, her voice uneven yet determined.

Sweat began to reform on Ui’s brow, but she couldn’t tell if she was nervous or exerting herself too much. “Shoot,” Ui shot back, shooting the ball in the general direction of her friend.

Azusa caught the shot and started dribbling the ball idly. “Does Yui-senpai… like me?” she squeaked, having to force the words out like each one pained her.

“I should hope so,” Ui responded instantly. “I can’t believe you’d even doubt that. She’d have a lot of hugs to explain if she didn’t like you. Wait, do you not like her?”

“It’s not that,” Azusa responded harshly, shoving the ball back towards her friend. “I meant to ask if Yui-senpai likes me in, uh… you know, t-the like like way. I’m, well, concerned about the reasoning behind some of her actions.” Red overcame the white that was gripping Azusa’s cheeks as she blushed.

Ui would have been less stunned if a truck had suddenly crashed through the building. Not one, but both of her friends were now claiming that something romantic could be going on with her sister. Desperately, Ui summoned all of her adaptation and learning powers to deal with the situation she was being presented with, but came up frustratingly empty. No amount of book learning told her how to react to her sister potentially growing up. Only one option remained. “Impossible,” Ui declared, spinning the ball on one finger perfectly on her first ever try. “Onee-chan acts like that with anything she finds interesting or cute. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Azusa-chan, but I don’t think that’s what it is.”

Another wave of shock passed through Ui as Azusa sighed in relief. “I was hoping you’d say that. Honestly, I thought I was going crazy. After everything that’s happened in the past week, I was really starting to wonder if-”

“You were in loooove?” Jun taunted, snatching the ball from Ui’s finger and waving it in Azusa’s face. “We’re on in a minute or two by the way.”

Azusa swiped the ball easily from Jun’s hand. “Don’t be daft. I didn’t want to have to deal with letting Yui-senpai down if she really felt that way. We’re friends, but she has a lot of things she needs to work on. Actually, I have a list-“

“You want to see her list?” Jun interrupted once more, putting her back to Azusa to face Ui. “She’s rather proud of it. ‘My list of things Yui-senpai does to annoy me, part 1 of 4.’ It’s very cute. She drew a little picture of herself with cat ears and hearts next to where she wrote- ow!”

Jun’s embarrassing revelation was interrupted by a basketball hitting her in the back of the head. Fortunately for Jun, her frizzy hair absorbed most of the impact, though the brunette still stumbled forwards a step or two. Ui caught the ball before it could interrupt one of the games while Jun and Azusa glared daggers at each other. “I showed you that in confidence, Jun-chan,” Azusa breathed, the serious tone from when she walked off the court returning.

“And I assumed you were mature enough not to throw basketballs at people’s heads, so I guess we’re both idiots!” Jun countered, raising her voice to a controlled shout.

Ui could feel the situation deteriorating into dangerous territory around her rapidly. She didn’t think Azusa and Jun would actually start fighting, but their yelling and posture already had the attention of most of the girls on the sidelines. It wouldn’t be long before the coach got involved, which would only make things worse for everyone. “If you’re hurt, I’m sorry, but you should know better than to try to reveal personal things like that,” Azusa hissed, no remorse in her apology.

“Oh, grow some skin, Nakano,” Jun taunted, taking a step forwards aggressively. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but that’s the last straw. You don’t get to wander around like a lovesick kitten for weeks and then get mad at me for calling you out on it.”

Little space remained now between the two friends, but Ui attempted to shove her way between them anyways. “Jun-chan, Azusa-chan, calm down! There’s no reason to fight over something dumb like this! Just apologize, please!” she insisted.

Neither Azusa nor Jun heeded Ui’s warning. Rather, they both pretended Ui wasn’t there. “I don’t like Yui-senpai like that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make sure she doesn’t have the wrong idea about us. Why do you even care?” Azusa hissed through gritted teeth.

Fiercely, Jun scowled. Though Azusa didn’t flinch, Ui was visibly disturbed at the raw, almost feral aggression Jun was exuding. She had always pegged Jun as the laziest member of their trio. “Who has the wrong idea here? I care because my friend has been moping around for the past week and a half because she can’t be honest with herself. I don’t give a damn who you like, but don’t go around pouting without actually doing anything about it.” To punctuate her last sentence, Jun jabbed a finger into Azusa’s chest accusingly.

“There’s nothing to do,” the infuriatingly calm Azusa insisted, not backing down or reacting to Jun’s physical provocation. “Ui-chan said it herself, Yui-senpai doesn’t feel that way.”

The two girls were now almost touching foreheads. Ui looked on helplessly, continuing to try and fail to get either of her friend’s attention. The basketball game going on nearest to the argument stalled and stopped without the three friends noticing. “Even if that’s true, no, especially if that’s true, then you have no damn excuse to be wandering around like somebody shot your dog. Besides, Ui-chan is literally the only other person in this school who agrees with you,” Jun shot back. “You can’t go through your life like this. As your friend, I’ve had enough.”

“Have you?” Azusa challenged, finally allowing her own voice to rise, surpassing even the highest decibel levels Jun had reached. “I’m sorry I can’t be perfectly cheery for you all the time, Jun-chan. Maybe it’d be a little easier if you and everyone else wasn’t trying to tell me one of my best friends wants to sleep with me!”

A basketball dropping to the ground was the only sound that could be heard in the gym. Only a few seconds later did Ui realize that it was her own ball that had fallen to the ground, all four games in the gym at a dead stop. Everyone in the gym was staring at Azusa and Jun. Azusa’s infuriated expression disappeared as she noticed the change in her surroundings for the first time. Understanding of what she had just yelled seemed to run through her, and she shrank a bit where she stood. The coach, the only person in the gym who appeared to be unfazed by what was happening, sighed. “You tell ’em, Nakano,” he congratulated sarcastically, before returning to flipping through his magazine.

Azusa’s gaze swiveled rapidly between Jun, and Ui. Fear, regret, and the barest traces of remaining anger were reflected in her irises. Without another word, she broke away from the stage she had been performing on and bolted out of the nearby gym door. “Azusa!” Jun cried, reaching out and failing to stop her friend.

Ui did more than call out. She tapped a hand on Jun’s shoulder to get her attention as she started to take off after Azusa. “I’ll follow her. You tell the coach to put someone else in. If he asks, she’s not feeling well and we went to the nurse. Call me if something happens.”

Jun was too dismayed by her own actions to argue, and made her way directly to the coach, jogging straight through the four games that were very slowly restarting around the gym. Ui ignored the whispers of the girls behind her as she dashed out of the gym after her friend. Even thoughts of Yui were shoved into the back of her mind as she focused on finding Azusa. Said girl was nowhere to be seen when Ui exited the gym, but she had a decent idea of where her friend would go. She made a brief stop at the locker room to retrieve her phone and took off for the front of the school. Confused students stared or glowered at her as she ran through the halls and power walked past suspicious teachers, eventually arriving at the closest exit to the bust of the school’s founder, a man whose name evaded Ui’s memory, at the front of the school. As she suspected, Azusa was sitting against said bust, which still bore some strands of confetti from the celebrations of the cultural festival. Though Azusa had never given her a solid explanation, she had told Ui and Jun in passing that she was rather fond of the bust, citing something about the aura it gave off. Despite the open nature of the area, most girls avoided the bust during the school day, with no reason to be in the school’s courtyard. Azusa’s head was tucked into her knees, muffled sniffling telling Ui everything she needed to know about her friend’s current situation. Ui steadied her breathing before Azusa could notice her, nerves suddenly overcoming her as she failed to approach her friend.

_Damn it. _ _I waited too long to do something this time. How do I keep messing this up? I can’t be any help to Azusa-chan or Yui-senpai like this… I know I followed her out here, but I have no idea what to say. What would Onee-chan say to Azusa-chan at a time like this? I can’t just lie and tell her nobody heard her. _

Suddenly, Ui’s phone buzzed, startling her out of contemplation. She withdrew the device, wondering if by some miracle Jun was telling her everyone in the gym had forgotten what had happened.

_Give Azu-nyan a hug for me!!!!!_

_~Yui~ <3_

Utterly dumbfounded, Ui stared at her phone like it had just slapped her. She knew that she hadn’t passed Yui in the hall on her way here, and Azusa would likely have been tackled affectionately if Yui found her. She spun around, as if she expected her sister to jump out at her. When it was confirmed that nobody Ui knew could see her, she returned her attention to her phone.

_Can you see us? Where are you? _

_-Ui_

Less than five seconds passed before Yui responded, the gusto in her words practically exploding out of the screen.

_She likes it when you pet her head!! Oh, but don’t tell her I told you that!_

_~~Yui~~ <3 ;-)_

So distracted was Ui by the mysterious messages she was receiving from her invisible sister that she didn’t notice Azusa looking up at her. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” Azusa growled half-heartedly.

Letting out an embarrassing squeak, Ui shoved her phone into her pocket rapidly. “I couldn’t let you face this by yourself. We’re friends, Azusa-chan, and you’re hurting. I should have said it sooner, but I want you to talk to me about this,” she insisted kindly, once she had her bearings.

The brunette leaned against a side of the bust adjacent to the one Azusa was occupying on her arms. She was pretty sure what she and Azusa were doing was seen as disrespectful, but she doubted anyone who could see them cared enough to call the pair on it. “I want to be alone,” Azusa claimed, her fidgeting body language speaking otherwise. “I’ll just find a way to hurt you too, like I did Yui-senpai and Jun-chan.”

Nothing came to Ui for a response. Azusa’s reaction to Ui’s explanation of the injury now made much more sense. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one that Yui had attempted to hide the cause of her injury from. Ui had to fight her sister instincts to grill Azusa relentlessly for more information about Yui’s injury. It was becoming painfully clear to her that she was terrible in conflict resolution situations like this. If the last week hadn’t hammered the point in hard enough for her, the last five minutes of her failed mediation would suffice. It was one of the few areas where Ui knew for certain that her sister far outshone her, and said sister seemed to be content to send her useless messages from afar. “What’s happened has happened. Don’t worry too much about what the others are thinking,” Ui tried as a comforting line.

Azusa didn’t respond, instead burying her head deeper into her knees. Ui cursed silently. She clearly hadn’t said the right thing. _But I don’t know what to say. There’s no way to prepare for this kind of thing. For all I know, I shouldn’t be comforting her. Azusa-chan very likely is the reason Onee-chan was hurt yesterday, based on what she said. But… there’s no way she would do that on purpose, right? _Images Ui recalled of Azusa throwing a basketball at Jun’s head were not helping the black-haired girl’s case.

_No, take a step backwards. Think about it logically. Azusa-chan smacks Jun-chan around all the time when she does something rude. If anything, it’s closer to what Mio-senpai and Ritsu-senpai do. I can’t assume things until I have the truth, and I have to help Azusa-chan to get the truth. What’s the reason Azusa-chan ran? She was embarrassed. She practically declared Onee-chan likes her to the whole class. No, that’s not confirmed. I have to figure that out later, but that can of worms can remain closed for now. Solve this part of the problem first. Relate to her somehow._

“You don’t have to understand your senpais to care about them, or even be their friend,” Ui posited, shifting her balance from arm to arm. “I don’t understand half of the things Onee-chan does, and I love her more than anything else in the world.”

Cautiously, Azusa’s head peeked out of the cavern she had created for herself. Though her eyes were still dull and wet, she was listening dubiously, if not intently. “That’s different. You’re sisters,” Azusa argued.

“That doesn’t mean we have to like each other. Siblings fight all the time. Even Onee-chan and I get into arguments occasionally. Despite that, I still love her, and I’d be lost without her. I don’t want her to go, but since I know it’s only a temporary thing, I can accept it. No matter what happens, we promised we’d always be there for each other when we need to be, and I trust her.” Ui’s nostalgia began to take over, and she had to force her mind to remain grounded in the conversation she was having.

With a robotic degree of control, Azusa rose to her feet. “I envy your ability to handle this sort of thing so well,” Azusa admitted. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and began to pace back and forth in front of the bust pensively. “I’m going to be alone. They have each other to cope with this, and Yui-senpai has you too. I never understood what Yui-senpai did to deserve someone like you as a sister. It’s like fate gave her a free pass or something.”

“Onee-chan has never done anything but be herself, and that’s enough for me,” Ui responded simply, not sure what else she could possibly say to sum things up.

There was more to it than that, much more, but Ui had the sense not to go into detail at this particular moment. Azusa’s puzzled expression implied she also sensed something behind Ui’s claim, but she didn’t dig any deeper. Ui took the opportunity to steer the conversation back to her original objective. She hadn’t chased her friend halfway around the school to talk about herself. “That aside, you have Jun and I too. We’re going to be the new Light Music Club, right?”

Without looking at Ui, Azusa nodded pensively. A wild thought occurred to Ui, drawn out by her friend’s response. “You do want to keep the Light Music Club alive after Yui-senpai and the others graduate, right?”

“Yes,” Azusa answered immediately. “It’s my duty as the only member who’ll be here after they graduate. I can’t dishonor them by allowing the club to die.”

Ui chuckled softly, drawing Azusa’s ire. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be in the Light Music Club if that’s the reason you want to keep it alive.”

Azusa stopped dead in her tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to join the Light Music Club because that’s what my friend Azusa Nakano wants to do with her friends, not because she feels like it’s some imaginary burden her senpais are leaving her.” Ui chose her words carefully, wary of how fragile Azusa’s calm mood was.

The black-haired guitarist sighed. “Of course I want to do it for myself, and us, too. But… after they’re gone, the Light Music Club will be the only thing I have left that connects me to them. I can’t pretend our bond as a band doesn’t exist. It’s the reason I joined them in the first place.” She leaned against the bust, her tears threatening to spill anew.

Unwilling to give Azusa the chance to retreat once more, Ui circled the bust to stand directly in front of her friend. “Azusa-chan. You obviously don’t need to fully understand your senpais to love them, because your words make it clear that you do. I didn’t mean what I said. We’ll form a band worthy of the legacy you’ve create with them.”

Defensive walls began to appear between Azusa and Ui as soon as Ui mentioned how Azusa felt about her senpais. The storm in Azusa’s eyes darkened dangerously. Ui fretted as she took a small step backwards, wondering if she had tried to be too direct, but Azusa still answered her declaration. “While I wouldn’t put it like that, they’re… irreplaceable to me. I wish they took the club more seriously sometimes, but things won’t be the same with any of them missing, let alone all of them.” Her head slumped once more. “That’s why I’m scared. I’m not afraid of living up to their legacy, I’m afraid of our legacy together ending. They’re going to be gone soon, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Even now, they’re starting to change. I can’t explain it, but I can feel it, in the way they talk and behave. We haven’t been able to practice together properly since the festival. Perhaps I should just be grateful they’re still practicing instead of quitting to study for entrance exams, but…I thought we were getting back to normal, but we’re not. Now everyone is telling me Yui-senpai is-” Azusa’s voice faltered, and when she picked it up again, she had completely dropped her original thought. “I… I love the Light Music Club, and I feel like I’m watching everything I love about it die.”

Lightning struck in Ui’s mind, and her eyes widened in brilliant understanding. _That’s it. The connection between Azusa-chan’s outburst about Onee-chan and her worries about the Light Music Club. Don’t just think, say something! Fix this!_ “Are you friends with your senpais?” Ui demanded sharply, drawing Azusa’s eyes back to her.

Caught unprepared, Azusa folded her arms defensively. “Huh? Well, after the past few days, I think-”

Aggressively, Ui used her arms to spring herself off of the bust, turning on her heels to glower at her dark-haired friend. “Yes or no, Azusa-chan, are you their friend?!” The brunette raised her voice, something she was extremely unused to doing, hoping she sounded intimidating.

Azusa at least appeared to be affected, and she nodded quickly. “Yes. I am their friend,” she answered somewhat firmly.

Whether she was right or not, Ui went for the kill. “Then just be their friend. They don’t expect you to do anything else, and neither do Jun-chan or I. We all just want each other to be happy, so there’s no need to second guess what every little thing our friends do means. Accept your senpais for who they are, changes and all, and enjoy the time you currently have together. That’s what real friends are supposed to do for each other. Worry about our future as the Light Music Club later.” As Ui laid out her spur of the moment pep talk, Azusa only shook her head in denial.

“If that’s the case, then I’ve been one of the worst friends ever,” Azusa claimed with a rueful chuckle. “I think I’ve managed to mess things up with everyone in the span of a week.”

“Nah, I think I’ve got you beat,” Jun claimed, suddenly appearing next to the side of the bust Azusa had been leaning against.

Both Ui and Azusa jumped backwards a foot or two, completely unprepared for their friend to materialize in front of them. Already against the bust, Azusa ended up headbutting the chest of the school founder painfully, causing her to drop to one knee and rub the back of her head painfully. Jun attempted to put a mask of concern on, but she couldn’t suppress the grin on her face that was bred from Azusa’s misfortune. “We’ll call that getting even for the basketball, for now,” she declared smugly, earning her a death glare from both of her friends that converted her look into an apologetic one. “Okay, look. I got you beat because I got my friend to say something incredibly embarrassing in front of her whole class, then I let her run off without apologizing. Sorry, by the way. This is me apologizing for that, and for yelling at you, and for that thing I just did. Right here. My bad.” She bowed, none of her usual antics present to indicate she was anything but serious.

“Don’t apologize to me for something I did to myself,” Azusa insisted, a trace of her anger returning as she rose to her feet. “It was my fault. I didn’t control myself properly.”

“Nobody would have expected you to, moron,” Jun fired back, still keeping her tone friendly. “I was the one who didn’t control myself, spouting off about things neither of us know the truth of. Look, I bothered to risk getting us all killed academically to come out here, the least you could do is accept my apology.”

If the bust caught in the middle of the triangle of girls wasn’t made of stone, it likely would have been crushed under the pressure that hung in the air between the three of them. Jun offered a hand invitingly that Azusa stared uncomprehendingly at. “You wanted us to be in a band next year, right? Call this our first creative disagreement.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Azusa rebuked dryly. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, and I’m sure our classmates will never let me live this down.”

Ui stepped forwards, cracking her knuckles sweetly. “If people start to spread malicious rumors about my friends or Onee-chan, I’ll put a stop to it.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Ignoring the familiar chill that ran through her spine, Azusa smiled. “I appreciate it, Ui-chan, but I can handle myself.” There was a light breeze that rustled the tree branches surrounding the bust as Azusa bowed to her friends. “On that note, I’m sorry, Jun-chan, Ui-chan, for making trouble for you both. I’ll deal with the consequences. We should get back.”

Azusa began to walk past her friends, who were still catching up to the sudden change in Azusa’s demeanor. Ui caught Azusa’s eye as the girl walked past her. There was obvious effort to hide it, but Ui could tell her friend was still very much in pain. Her sister’s text surfaced in her memory. _If I let her go now, we’ll be right back where we started. We’ll have this same conversation a few days later, and nothing will change, just as it has been for the last week. Onee-chan’s injury, her crying, Azusa-chan’s melancholy, it’ll always be some new issue unless someone takes definitive action to make something change. Someone has to take the first step. _

Ui’s arms snaked out and caught Azusa in a hug before she could get away. Startled, Azusa gasped, far too unprepared to even begin to try to struggle as Ui attempted to convey the words she couldn’t find for her mouth into Azusa through her touch. _Can you feel this, Azusa-chan? This is from Onee-chan. She can’t tell you either, but she doesn’t want you to be sad. I don’t know how to fix what isn’t going to change, but… I’m going to do my best for everyone. That’s what good little sisters do._

Azusa’s struggles died down as the seconds stretched on, eventually leaving the young guitarist standing patiently in place, allowing the event to play out by itself without her interference. When Ui released her friend, she met her gaze solemnly. “If you want to deal with the consequences, then you’ll have to do it with us by your side. Let us help you,” Ui spoke for herself and Jun.

Jun, for her part, had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile on her face. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be much help, but I can’t let our future band’s leader be sad forever. You can count on me, and I’d like to count on you, if you’re not still mad, that is. If you are, you can hit me really hard. Actually, scratch that, don’t do that. Let’s just not hit anyone from here on in, yeah?”

Jun paled goofily as she attempted to talk herself out of getting punched by her own suggestion, eliciting a reluctant smile from Azusa. “I don’t deserve friends like you guys, or like my senpais,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t bother pushing you if I didn’t care,” Jun responded, recovering enough to take their conversation seriously. “Give yourself some credit, you dope.”

“She’s right,” Ui spoke up, placing her hands on her hips confidently. “We’re next year’s Light Music Club. One way or another, we have to stick together. That means helping each other when we need it the most.”

Azusa suddenly nodded enthusiastically, as if something had clicked in her mind. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I can’t keep running around this issue. I’m going to do something about it.”

The burst of enthusiasm from Azusa in the face of Ui’s determination confused her, even if it was more or less the intended effect. “Do something? Well, yes, but about what?” she echoed.

Azusa nodded, only to suddenly stop and think for a second. “Everything. Yui-senpai, my band, our band, all of it. I don’t know how, or when, but I’m going to figure it out. If I keep pretending that nothing is changing, I’ll keep hurting people. Mugi-senpai is right- something has to fundamentally change, and it starts by making up with the people I care about.”

“Atta girl, Nakano!” Jun cried out jovially, slapping Azusa on the back. “Oh, by the way, we should probably get back to the gym before the coach kills us.”

Somehow, the idea of potentially being yelled at was enticing to all three girls, even the ever-serious Azusa. Said guitarist voiced what was on all three girl’s minds. “As long as we do it together.”

Ui sensed something different about Azusa. They had fought and made up several times over the past week or so, but the way Azusa suddenly started carrying herself told her that this was different. Azusa’s posture, despite the friendly aura she gave off, was completely rigid, disciplined. Azusa hated getting in trouble, but she was almost nonchalant about the idea as she discussed the best course of action for dealing with the coach with Jun. Whatever understanding she had come to in that moment, Ui had a feeling that, while she had made up with herself and Jun, whatever issues she had with Yui and the others weren’t anywhere close to resolved. _I’ll have to deal with whatever rumors come up from today before Onee-chan and the others hear about it. Azusa-chan feels different. Not necessarily normal. It’s almost like Onee-chan when she gets her mind set on something. Onee-chan isn’t the only one who’s changing as a result of graduation coming. I can’t fall behind. I have to help them through this. If… even if Onee-chan is really maturing, I’ll still be there for her, even if she doesn’t need me…_

Ui’s phone ended her dark contemplation. She looked curiously at it for a split second, having forgotten she had it.

_Good job! Thanks for being Azu-nyan’s friend!_

_Y ~U~ I_

Dainty fingers flew across the keypad furiously.

_Where are you?! _

No response, not even an indication that Yui had seen the message. A call to her sister produced similar results. Ui sighed to herself. As she and her friends made their way back to the gym, their alibi being some sort of sudden explosive nosebleed that had caused Azusa to spout some crazy words she didn’t even remember, she felt her phone weigh heavily in her pocket with every second her question went unanswered. By the time they reached the gym and began apologizing profusely, Ui realized that her sister wasn’t going to respond, at least not over the phone. Ui’s resolve was steeled as she stood there, bowing respectfully at the coach next to her closest friends. _Onee-chan is the heart of Azusa-chan’s issues. I know it. If I want the truth of the bruise, and what’s going on in the Light Music Club, I have to go to Onee-chan. No more. I’m getting my friend and my sister back tonight. _

* * *

**November 9th, Evening**

Ui had set everything up perfectly. She had made an extra trip to the store to prepare Yui’s favorite dinner, used what little of her allowance was left over to purchase the packs of stickers she hadn’t let her sister purchase when they had gone shopping the other day, and to top it all off, she had texted her sister to let her know that she had a surprise for her. It didn’t matter that the surprise was an interrogation, what mattered was that it would get Yui to let her guard down in her excitement. There was the possibility Yui would think Ui was mad at her for ignoring her call earlier in the day, which she certainly was, but she couldn’t do anything about that on short notice. Never once did it occur to Ui that she might be using a bazooka to take down an ant hill. What mattered was that all of her preparation led Ui to this critical moment, as she turned her sliced carrot over with her fork, watching her older sister eat like a hawk. Yui was happily wolfing down her food, babbling about all the interesting things she had seen and done that day. To Ui’s great relief, Yui hadn’t mentioned anything strange about Azusa or anything else that day. Even better, the swelling of her bruise had already gone down, likely due to Azusa’s intervention. _I guess Azusa-chan’s at least planning on thinking things through before doing anything too rash. That’s good. It means there’s a chance I can be helpful. She was acting normal for the rest of the day, but she’s still conflicted. I can see it in Onee-chan now, too. Damn it, I should have noticed sooner. I can’t afford to be in the dark about Onee-chan’s romantic interests, if they really are developing. I have to get to the heart of my friend’s problems, if they won’t do it themselves._

Taking a deep breath, Ui prepared to spring her surprise on Yui, only to freeze when she saw how her sister was looking at her. It was a contemplative look Ui didn’t see from her sister often, usually only when they discussed something unpleasant, as was oft the case of late. Ui’s muscles tensed up, feeling like a caught thief. “Is something wrong, Onee-chan?” she prompted.

“You’re not eating,” Yui pointed out, concern plastered over her expression.

Noticing that she had in fact made a perfectly good meal for herself that was going uneaten, Ui could only sigh. “Oh. I guess I have a lot on my mind,” the little sister admitted.

Yui brightened for some unfathomable reason at that. “Me too! What’s on your mind?” she asked, bouncing up and down in her seat a little.

There was no way Ui was going to give her sister the truth in this manner, so she forced herself to eat some of the dinner she had prepared while she thought of a decent response. “Mom and dad,” she eventually lied.

“Why? Are they coming home again soon?” Yui responded innocently.

“No, not that,” Ui absentmindedly denied, not even invested in her own conversation, rather in how to steer things back to her main point.

“It’s not about last weekend, right Ui? I told you I made up with them. I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything else about it.” Yui pouted a little, pushing her clean plate around cutely.

Ui couldn’t withhold herself anymore. “Why are you hiding things from me, Onee-chan?” she blurted out.

For a moment, Yui was silent, then her eyes brightened considerably. “Oh, you mean the texting? I was wondering when you were going to ask. I was on the roof and I saw Azu-nyan, but she looked sad. Then I saw you, so I thought I’d have you help Azu-nyan out for me! Pretty smart, huh?” Yui did a peace sign and wink, which looked utterly ridiculous and made Ui wish for a camera so she could have the chance to giggle at her sister’s antics at a more appropriate time.

As things stood, Ui could only delve into the second mystery Yui’s explanation had created. “You were on the roof? Why? What about class?”

“It was lunchtime,” Yui waved off dismissively. “Mugi-chan suggested that I go there to think about some things, so I did.”

_Mugi-senpai again… _Ui recalled Azusa mentioning that Tsumugi had told her that things couldn’t remain the same anymore. _Does that have to do with telling Onee-chan to go to the roof?_ _Hold on. Stay focused, Ui. One step at a time._

“Okay, so you were on the roof. What were you thinking about?” Ui could only assume that if Yui had decided to take the time to think something through, it was important enough to warrant her personal attention.

Yui stared uncomprehendingly at Ui, long enough for Ui to feel extremely uncomfortable for asking what should have been an obvious follow-up question. Without warning, Yui suddenly proceeded to shove her plate aside, nearly sending it to the ground. She chugged the last of her water sloppily and gasped obnoxiously, slapping her cheeks as soon as the water had disappeared. Ui watched the preparation ritual with uneasy fascination. Somehow, she didn’t feel like the one who was getting ready to do the interrogating. When Yui spoke again, her voice was much more composed than normal. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things for the past week or so. I mean, you’ve noticed, but, well, I guess I only really started taking things seriously today. Does that make sense? Mou, I’m tired. I don’t think I’ve had to think this hard in a long time.” Yui’s explanation drifted into the territory of incoherent rambling.

Waiting for Yui to get to the point was normally entertaining for Ui, but tonight she found the process excruciating. “Do you mean the Light Music Club’s melancholy?” she prompted, cutting off her sister’s stream of conscious.

Yui tilted her head, not recognizing the word for a moment. “Oh! No, not that. I mean, that’s important, but I’m working on something to deal with that. I’ll get everything back to normal soon. Actually, I’ve been thinking about love.”

Ui’s fork froze in midair, her mouth open to take a bite of food that wasn’t coming. With all the control of a mother with several children, Ui remained calm. “Love? What kind?” she spoke, not sure she actually wanted to hear the answer.

“With another person, silly!” Yui giggled over the sound of Ui’s world shattering. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” As if it would prove her age superiority, Yui flopped to the ground from the kotatsu the two had been eating on.

“Onee-chan, I’m only a year younger than you,” Ui pointed out, her tone only becoming more and more complicated to maintain evenly. “Besides, I love you and my parents. I should hardly think age is a factor in this conversation.”

“That’s different,” Yui insisted. “We’re soulmates, and mom and dad are never home. I’m talking about romantic love. You know, Romeo and Juliet stuff.”

Even Yui’s adorable explanation of her relationship with her sister was glossed over as Ui’s worst fears were confirmed, and her fork left her grip, clattering against her plate with finality. She pinched herself. _Ow. I’m awake. This isn’t a dream. Onee-chan is thinking about liking someone. How did this happen. This was supposed to be a problem I could fix for everyone. Onee-chan doesn’t like anyone, Azusa-chan has nothing to worry about, we can go back to normal after I get rid of the rumor mongers. I mean, in theory Onee-chan should have started liking others like that years ago, but why is it happening now, of all times? This isn’t Onee-chan. Onee-chan isn’t ready for this kind of thing. I’m not ready for Onee-chan to be ready for this kind of thing!_

As panic removed all thoughts outside of Yui’s potential love life from Ui’s mind, Yui’s cheerful grin faltered. “But… I don’t think I can be honest about it.”

Ui practically slugged herself to drag herself out of her tailspin of a thought process. “Onee-chan, let me be blunt about this. Are you referring to Azusa-chan?”

Yui gasped dramatically, falling over in shock. “How’d you know?! Are you reading my mind again Ui?”

It was comforting to Ui to see that the Yui she knew was definitely still in there. “You’ve always been rather affectionate towards her,” Ui explained, not willing to go over every item she assumed was on Azusa’s list. “What do you mean you can’t be honest? If this is how you really feel, you should tell her.”

“I don’t want to give Azu-nyan the wrong idea,” Yui explained unhelpfully.

_You’re doing that already, _Ui desperately fought against saying. “She takes everything really seriously,” Yui continued, unperturbed by her sister’s staring. “And I don’t know how I really feel about Azu-nyan. I mean, I love her, but I don’t know if I know why.”

There was a shocking amount of maturity in Yui’s explanation, which didn’t fit the image Ui was looking at of Yui lying facedown on the floor in order to keep her face cool. “I… Onee-chan…” Ui was at a loss.

All of Ui’s brilliant plans to be the one who could make her friends truly smile again were falling apart at the seams. She was simply wandering from one person to another, observing problems she could do nothing to solve. In a roundabout way, Yui was right about Ui not being helpful with her problem. _I don’t know anything about romance. Mom and dad’s idea of romance is leaving the kids at home to go vacationing. Onee-chan is more important to me than anyone else, but there’s no romantic attraction there. I’m… useless. I can’t be there when she needs me the most. _

Yui looked up when Ui faltered, frowning. The older sister’s lax demeanor straightened out instantly as she sensed the conflict running through her younger sister. “No, Ui, don’t be upset, please! That’s the last thing I want!”

In an instant, Yui was up and at Ui’s side, one arm wrapped protectively around her younger sister. In spite of herself, Ui could feel her emotions getting the better of her, but she held firm, refusing to allow her selfish tears to fall. She returned the hug gingerly before forcing herself to stand up straight. There would be time for breaking down later. “Don’t worry, Onee-chan, I’m okay. I just need some time to process this. I didn’t think… I mean, I was upset that you were hiding things from me, and when you ran away from home, I was terrified, but I didn’t realize it was so personal. I’m sorry. It’s not my place to pry into these matters.”

The firm grip connecting the two sisters was strengthened. “I’ve been a terrible older sister, Ui. I’m sorry. I promise you, I won’t ever run away like that anymore. I’ll make it up to you after the party, alright? Just give me a few days to sort some things out, then we can talk about everything, okay?”

Somewhere within herself, Ui found the ability to smile trustingly at her sister. She simply wasn’t wired to be able to doubt the girl she had both looked up to and cared for nearly her entire life. “Okay, I trust you, Onee-chan. I’ll wait until after the party to hear you out.” Ui gave Yui the sincerest look she could from her position.

Yui didn’t immediately respond, but the warm glow emitting from her gave Ui all the faith she needed. Before Ui was ready to let go, Yui separated herself, an expression of epiphany adorning her. “Oh! I just remembered! You have to talk to Mugi-chan! She told me to have you talk to her for some party planning stuff! I’ll go take a shower, so you can use my phone!” Yui fished around in her pocket for her phone, only to realize it had fallen onto the floor around the same time Yui herself had.

Before Ui could even begin to catch up to the new train of thought Yui had jumped on, Yui was off, rambling about the logistics of taking a shower with Giita. Ui sighed, scolding the smile appearing on her face. No matter what her sister did, trying to get her irritation to stick to her was impossible. Though it made discipline difficult, there was rarely a moment where Ui could call herself bored. That thought out of the way, Ui turned her attention to the phone Yui had left on top of the kotatsu.

As she picked up her sister’s phone, Ui found herself grateful to Tsumugi for the opportunity to distract herself from the complicated world that her friend’s problems had become. The sound of running water through pipes began to echo throughout the house, and Ui decided to hurry herself along. If she wasn’t careful, her sister would actually try to sneak Giita into the shower again. _I haven’t spoken to Mugi-senpai in a while. I wonder how she’s dealing with all of this, aside from sending people to roofs._

Selecting the proper contact in her sister’s phone, Ui’s eyes happened to catch the time posted by a clock on the wall. 9:53. It was a fair amount of time later than Ui was expecting, but part of that was due to Yui coming home late and immediately falling asleep on the couch. Even with her plan in mind, Ui hadn’t been able to wake her sister immediately, and knowing why she had been so tired, she was grateful that she didn’t. Five rings echoed through the living room before a groggy voice came out of the transceiver. “Yui-chan? It’s a bit late… is something wrong?”

Ignoring her befuddlement at the fact that Tsumugi thought 9:53 was late, Ui put on her polite guest voice. “It’s Ui, Mugi-senpai. Onee-chan asked me to call you to discuss some organizational details for the party? Is now a good time?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, accompanied by the rustling of papers and what Ui could only assume were bedsheets. “Thank you for calling, Ui-chan. I was a bit worried that Yui-chan forgot about what I told her,” Tsumugi’s perfectly even voice flowed out. “In any case, I just wanted to let you know that I was planning on bringing some tea and cake to the party myself, so you could plan accordingly. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course!” Ui responded eagerly. “I’d welcome any sort of help in the form of food. Was there anything else you wanted to go over?”

Again, Tsumugi waited a few seconds longer than necessary before responding. “No, that should do it for what I needed to say.”

“Oh… okay,” Ui responded, a bit dejected at the mundane direction the call was going in. “I guess I’ll see you on Sunday then?”

Tsumugi’s voice sang back instantly this time. “Absolutely. I look forward to it. Ah, and Ui-chan?”

“Yes, Mugi-senpai?” Ui responded, straining her ears to try and tell if Yui was dragging her guitar into what would only be its destruction.

The phone itself suddenly felt cold in Ui’s palm. “Please don’t attempt to interfere in the affairs of the Light Music Club right now.”

Ui started, grateful that Tsumugi couldn’t see her. Somehow, the tone she had just heard was far more terrifying than any sort of intimidating calmness she or even Azusa could pull off. Tsumugi’s voice was sweet, pleasant even, but the second Ui allowed herself to relax in it, she felt that it would suffocate her, devour her and leave no trace of herself behind. “H-huh? What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said,” Tsumugi confirmed, her neutral voice returning. “Please don’t worry yourself over our affairs. It’s only worrying Yui-chan and Azusa-chan. If things go the way I think they will, everything will be resolved by the 13th.”

The unnecessary finality behind Tsumugi’s statement put Ui more on edge than ever before. She couldn’t admit to knowing Tsumugi very well, but the person she was talking to wasn’t anything like she had seen before, or anything that matched her sister’s descriptions of the heiress. “Tell me, if you know, what’s going on with Onee-chan’s club?” she squeaked out, chiding how pathetic her voice sounded.

Tsumugi sighed, a sigh that made her seem far more human than Ui realized she was mentally picturing her sister’s friend as. “Something that always happens, something that I’m going to prevent,” the keyboardist solemnly declared. “Now, if you don’t mind, Ui-chan, I have to go to bed. I’ll be counting on you on Sunday!” Without another word, Tsumugi hung up the phone.

Ui gasped for air, not realizing how long she had been holding her breath. She had never felt such an overwhelming presence from anyone, not even an angry Azusa. Thoughts of what to do next struggled to surface in her mind, but she could only bring herself to return Yui’s phone to its place and slump down on the couch. She hadn’t just misread the relationship between Yui and Azusa. To cause Tsumugi to behave in such a way, the issues plaguing the Light Music Club’s separation must run far deeper than she anticipated. Though she worried for the others, Ui could only really focus on her sister. Her sweet, innocent sister. Her sister who would never grow up, who Ui loved to take care of, who Ui intended to take care of forever, who was going to be out of Ui’s protective reach soon. Ui’s hands clenched into fists on the couch. She was powerless against fate. People like Azusa, Tsumugi, and even Yui were all planning to do something about it, but Ui couldn’t even fathom where to begin. _They all shine so brightly. Onee-chan is clearly overworking her mind to figure things out. Azusa-chan has been struggling harder than anyone else, but she still smiles for us. Even Mugi-senpai, strange as she was acting, is clearly trying her best. I’m just a supporter. Learning things fast doesn’t mean anything if I can’t learn what I need to learn. Mou, when did I start thinking so bleakly? I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I have a job to do as a little sister, after all. Everything comes second to that, even trying to understand what’s going on._

Shoving the problem into the back of her mind for the time being, Ui stood and started up the stairs, having detected the sound of guitar strumming even behind her jumbled thoughts and the rushing water. Ui couldn’t help but smile to herself a little as she prepared her chastising voice. There would come a day when Yui didn’t need her, but it certainly wasn’t today. “Onee-chan! Don’t you dare take Giita into the shower with you!”


	10. I want to feed Ton-chan

**November 10th, After School**

The final bell of the day pierced shrilly throughout the halls of Sakuragaoka High. From every classroom, excited students spilled out into the hallways, an avalanche of people running, talking, laughing, and even colliding as they made their way to their after-school clubs and homes. The scene was hardly original, or even particularly interesting, but Mio Akiyama found herself transfixed in her seat nonetheless, staring out the window thoughtfully. _So many of them… all bright-eyed, hopeful, excited to go to their clubs… We’ve taken what the five of us created for granted. _

It was situations like this where Mio wished she kept her lyric-writing journal on her at all times. She was almost certain that she could squeeze out a verse or two based on her emotional reaction to the tidal wave of pounding feet and jostling uniforms. _But there wouldn’t be a point, right? Aren’t you just pretending everything is fine? _A sing-song voice jested cruelly in her head.

Two weeks ago, Mio would have had a retort for the malicious voice personifying her anxiety, but no such stinging rebuke came to mind. Her fingers drummed out the bassline for Fude Pen ~Ball Pen~ as life passed her by. Minutes ticked away, and Mio’s arsenal of answers was left as painfully empty as the halls were by the time she had given up, only excuses charging to her defense.

_Why can’t I focus? _

_I’m worried about our band’s future, since we’re all going in different directions next year.  
I’m worried that Azusa-chan’s still upset about what Ritsu and I said to her, even though we apologized.  
I’m worried about Yui-chan because she’s having her arm looked at by a doctor.  
I’m worried because our guitarists are having a falling out.  
And I can’t get that damn turtle out of my head! _

Mio took a deep breath, inducing a reset in her own thoughts. _Breathe. Take it one step at a time. You have to remain composed, no matter what. They’re all counting on you to find a solution, even if one doesn’t exist. To that end, I need to feed Ton-chan._

Ton and Mio didn’t get along, according to Mio. She had been more than happy to let Azusa and Tsumugi handle the majority of the turtle’s care for the past year. Mio ignores Ton, Ton doesn’t sneak out of his tank to horrify the skirt off of Mio when she isn’t paying attention. This mutually beneficial relationship could have lasted indefinitely, had Sawako not had opened her big mouth and started talking about things they wouldn’t be able to do once they graduated. Since that day, Mio hadn’t been able to get the pig-nosed turtle out of her mind. Ton would invade her mind whenever she tried to concentrate on anything, from school work to practicing bass, derailing her train of thought at only the most inopportune times. It was as if the turtle was taunting her for her inability to be useful to the people she cared about, and Mio was fed up. At this point, feeding Ton had become more than simple words she had written down on a whim. Stuffing the smug reptile’s face personally was a challenge, a test to prove that, in fact, she could accomplish a goal she set for herself, no matter how inane. _So that’s how it is. Feed Ton-chan. Save the club. Figure out the details later. Don’t think about how dumb this is and how you should be focusing on anything else._

An eraser whizzed by Mio’s head, yanking the bassist into the present. “Oi, space cadet. I know you can’t make it home without me, but could you at least wait outside? We’re trying to clean in here.”

Realizing with embarrassment that she was the only seated student left in the room, Mio hastily stood up, praying the flushing of her face wasn’t noticeable. Ritsu, the source of the projectile, was staring at the student she had just enraged with bemusement. “So are you going home, or what?” Ritsu prompted towards the stiff senior once more. “Geez, you’ve been spacing out harder than Mugi does lately.”

“Shut up, baka!” Mio instinctively responded, regrettably unable to take a swing at the drummer from the other side of the room. “You deserve to have extra cleaning duty.”

Ritsu frowned as Mio brought up her punishment. “It’s not my fault Sawa-chan can’t take a joke,” she retorted, pouting. “Where I’m from, joy buzzers are a sign of everlasting friendship!”

Mio rolled her eyes as she scooped up her bag. “Shocking people isn’t funny. In any case, we live in the same neighborhood. Try that line on literally anyone else.”

A playful smirk lit up Ritsu’s face. “Ah, but if I practiced my witty and charming banter on other people, you’d get lonely. Can’t have that, can we?”

The other three girls who actually had been assigned cleaning duty that day were watching the interaction between the childhood friends with poorly disguised interest. Mio glowered at all three of them until she was certain they were frantically working again. A sigh escaped the bassist’s mouth. There was too much on her mind to deal with Ritsu and her antics right now. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to the clubroom to practice. Don’t wait up for me.”

As Mio turned away to leave, she barely caught a glimpse of Ritsu cocking an eyebrow at her. “Practice?” she questioned, disbelief in her tone. “What for? There’s no point in practicing alone if you’re not Nakano. Did you forget how old you are? What happened to studying for entrance exams?”

Instead of the normal brand of frustratingly familiar irritation that accompanied Ritsu’s jests, hot anger rushed through Mio’s system. She barked out a harsh laugh, hoping it sounded condescending enough to express her displeasure. “Studying. That’s rich, coming from you. This attitude of yours is why we sound terrible in our group practices.”

Though she couldn’t see her friend, Mio easily sensed the rapid change in demeanor of the person behind her. “Geez, then go already, grumpy skirt. Don’t let me stop you.” Ritsu returned to her duties, pretending Mio had already left.

Unwilling to give the other cleaners any more of a show, Mio fled classroom 3-2 and jogged towards the clubroom. The whole interaction had left a bitter taste in her mouth, prompting her to get as far away as possible. _It’s not just Yui-chan and Azusa-chan. Something’s wrong with Ritsu too. She’d never pass up an opportunity to make fun of me like that with an audience so easily. Well, it doesn’t matter right now. I need to take care of this stupid goal so I can stop thinking about it and move on to what’s actually important. I… I can’t bring them with me where I’m going, but I’ll find a solution somehow. For the band._

It was almost embarrassing how the day’s events had so easily put Mio’s original plan to feed Ton to shame. Trying to hide Ton’s food in the morning so that nobody could feed Ton before she ‘discovered’ his lost food supplies had backfired spectacularly. At best, she had managed to inconvenience Azusa, and at absolute, barnacle-covered-ghost-level worst, she had unintentionally incited a fight between the band’s guitarists. “This is what you get for being timid, for not just telling them you wrote something stupid,” the bassist chastised herself. “Why, why, why did I have to write down something so stupid?!” She rubbed one of the turtles on the stairway, lamenting her own insecurity.

Despite the seeming simplicity of the task, finding a way to feed Ton without letting the other club members know that she wanted to pull it off was proving to require the use of a miracle. Fortunately, the god of pet care had seen fit to bestow such an opportunity directly into Mio’s lap. Practice had been canceled today due to the band being down one guitarist. Yui, on Ui’s insistence, was visiting the doctor to have her injured arm inspected, leading Ritsu to call off practice. Though she had done an excellent job of appearing to be fine for the past 24 hours, Yui had suddenly announced before class that Ui was taking her to the doctor after school as an extra precaution. Mio was certainly concerned about the unknown source of her friend’s injury, as well as Azusa’s poorly disguised guilt every time she had looked at her senpai yesterday, but there wouldn’t be a chance to get answers today. When the news spread to the kouhai of the group, Azusa had decided to spend the afternoon with one of her friends from the Jazz Club, Jun. More importantly, she was leaving a convenient opening for turtle feeding duties. Even Mio’s most challenging obstacle, the drummer who was practically attached to her at the hip, had managed to convince Sawako to keep her after school with one of her more dangerous antics.

_It’s all going too perfectly. I have to do this now. I’ll never get another chance this good. _Reaching the top of the stairs, Mio suddenly felt her nerves reach a boiling point. _I’m forgetting something. There has to be some variable I overlooked. I… no, enough, Mio! Don’t get cold feet here. You have all the time in the world. Feed the stupid turtle and be done with it! Do it. Do it!_

Charging forward lest she lose the ability to walk, Mio thrust the door to the clubroom open. “I’m going to do it!” she declared proudly to the room.

“Oh, hello, Mio-chan!”

The world stopped spinning for Mio Akiyama. Sitting in her normal seat, piping hot cup of tea in hand, was Tsumugi. Panic overrode every other emotion within the bassist. _I knew it. Damn it. I was so distracted by how perfectly everyone else had a reason to stay away from the clubroom I forgot about Mugi-chan! Please please please tell me she hasn’t- _

Everything else in the room was shrinking, all unimportant information being removed from Mio’s attention as she stared dully at the pellets of food Ton was consuming. Tsumugi followed Mio’s thousand-yard stare, her concern only growing as Mio failed to acknowledge her presence. “Mio-chan? Is something wrong?”

Literally nothing could possibly be right in Mio’s head right now. She’d rather be shocked by a hundred of Ritsu’s joy buzzers than be standing where she was right at that instant. “Ton-chan…” she uttered, not by her own volition.

Tsumugi’s gaze turned to their turtle. “Yes, that’s Ton-chan,” the blonde confirmed, giving their pet a friendly wave. “I thought I’d make sure to feed him, since nobody was coming to the clubroom today. Oh, was that what you were going to do? My apologies.”

Mio felt herself nod weakly. Her knees were about to buckle on her. Fortunately for the bassist, Tsumugi took note of the precarious state of her companion and acted immediately. Within a minute, Mio had a cup of tea and a cookie with a heart-shaped chocolate on top in front of her. Tsumugi sat next to her friend patiently, occasionally giving the confections a little push towards her friend. Mio blinked a few times while she attempted to make sense of her situation. _Why am I acting like such a child? I’m being dumb. This is so dumb. I’m not Ritsu or Yui-chan. I shouldn’t be getting so worked up over something like this. I’m an adult. _

The bassist finally took a sip of tea, willing her frayed nerves to recover. Her friend looked on encouragingly, her concerns slightly assuaged by Mio’s movement. “I didn’t realize you cared so much about feeding Ton-chan today…” the keyboardist admitted guiltily. “I’m sorry, Mio-chan. You can feed him tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Seeing the regret tainting Tsumugi’s features unscrambled the part of Mio’s brain controlling her speech. “No, Mugi-chan, don’t get upset over this. I’m the one who doesn’t have the courage to admit that I want to feed him.” Her shoulders slumped as reality kicked in. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, since you know.” The cookie tasted like resignation when she bit into it.

“You don’t want people to know you want to feed Ton-chan?” Tsumugi echoed, tilting her head. “Why not?”

Unaware of the torment he was putting one of his caretakers through, Ton continued to enjoy his dinner. Mio glared at the turtle. “Because it’s embarrassing that I wrote it on my card a week ago…” she whispered, barely audibly.

Tsumugi leaned in, cupping a hand around her ear. “Eh? Can you repeat that?” she requested politely.

“It’s embarrassing!” Mio burst out, slamming her hands on the table and driving Tsumugi backwards a solid foot in her chair. “Everyone’s so busy doing their best to keep the club together and all I can think about is a stupid turtle! I’m useless.” Tears promised to ruin Mio’s tea, so she shoved the cup away from herself.

When she turned back to face Tsumugi, Mio hadn’t been sure what to expect. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the comforting hand the heiress placed on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re not useless, Mio-chan. Nobody is. We’re all just having a hard time right now. It’ll be over soon.”

Unwilling to admit defeat, Mio gently brushed off Tsumugi’s attempt at reassurance. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” she countered despondently. “Even if things improve now, we’re still going to separate. That’s why I should be focusing on what to do about our graduation, instead of focusing on Ton-chan.”

In a move only Tsumugi could manage to make appear graceful, the keyboardist transferred her rejected hand from Mio’s shoulder to her own chin, rubbing it in contemplation. It was obviously done for show, but Mio couldn’t fathom who Tsumugi thought she was acting for. She pushed her empty thoughts aside. “Perhaps… but no matter what’s coming, there isn’t much point in wasting our time now being sad over things we can’t control, ne?”

Mio found her teacup once more and gripped it tightly, seeking anything solid she could hold on to. Tsumugi’s words were the same ones she had been telling herself for over a week now, though hearing them from a different source did little to change Mio’s opinion of them. “You’re right,” she lied, drawing on the acting skills she had developed in the last month for their class play. “I’ll focus on what I can control.” _Even if it’s just a bluff for now, I have to say it. _

Blatantly relieved, Tsumugi beamed at the black-haired girl. “Great! I’ll help you. You want to feed Ton-chan without the others knowing it was you, right?”

Spooked by how close Tsumugi leaned in to ask that question, Mio nodded once, not sure where this was going. The heiress giggled to herself, muttering quietly about turtles and covert spy operations. Though Mio tried to ask Tsumugi what she was scheming, it quickly became clear that asking questions was pointless for the moment. Tsumugi had entered her own world, rising from her chair, hopping from one foot to the other as she formed a cunning plan in her mind, stars dotting her eyes. “Yes, yes, that works!” the heiress finally exclaimed jovially, pounding a fist into her hand in understanding.

The display drew an unwitting smile out of Mio. Tsumugi’s child-like enthusiasm for the more mundane parts of a normal person’s life like pet feeding were always entertaining. A sense of déjà vu suddenly overcame Mio. _Strange. I feel like I’ve had a similar conversation to this recently. No, I’m probably imagining things. Nobody else knows about my card. It’s in my head. Perhaps I should ask Mugi-chan for advice once things calm down a little. It’s not like I have to solve this problem myself. _

“Then I’ll set things up tomorrow so you can get to the clubroom first and feed him,” Tsumugi decided. “That way, nobody else will find out and you can have peace of mind. Sound good?”

As much as she cared about Tsumugi, Mio couldn’t help but question a nebulous plan that had more potential holes in it than Ritsu had lumps on her head. “You can do that?” Mio asked dubiously, taking another sip of tea.

Without hesitation, Tsumugi shook her head yes, saluting for good measure. “Of course, Mio-chan! Anything for a friend!”

Her brooding nearly forgotten, Mio chuckled to herself. “Alright then, I’m counting on you. Thanks, Mugi-chan.” As she set down her tea cup, a second thought occurred to her. “Not just for Ton-chan. I really appreciate everything you do for our band. It can’t be easy having to make tea and snacks every day. So thank you, really.” Mio bowed slightly in her seat.

A wild blush bloomed all over Tsumugi’s fair skin. The keyboardist sat down hard in her chair, forgoing the typical refined control of her movements a childhood in the upper class had endowed her with. “Oh no, you’re too kind, Mio-chan. I just enjoy spending time with you all. Besides, bringing food and tea for everyone is fun! I wouldn’t want things any other way.”

Mio gave her friend a smile of appreciation, one that was returned without hesitation. “Me neither.” She picked up her teacup, a silly toast coming to mind. “To the Light Music Club?” she offered, holding her teacup out.

The gesture was returned almost immediately. “To the future of the Light Music Club,” Tsumugi echoed.

Somewhere Mio had once read that you were supposed to use alcohol when toasting something, but tea felt vastly more appropriate for their group. Mio watched Tsumugi fondly as the heiress sipped her tea, a faint blush still adorning her features. Though she had her moments, Mio found herself relying on Tsumugi more often than not to corral the antics of the club’s other seniors. The blonde didn’t always have the strongest voice in their band, but her actions spoke more than volumes about how much she cared about the others. As the two drank their tea and chatted quietly, Mio felt her worries begin to fade, like a bad dream she had just woken from. Now able to actually think about her current situation, it suddenly struck Mio as odd that Tsumugi had a cup of tea ready for her in the first place. “Ne, Mugi-chan, why did you make tea today? I thought you just came here to feed Ton-chan.”

Tsumugi looked down, her expression becoming serenely empty. “Oh, I just prefer to be here in the clubroom than at home, even if it’s just me. It’s… warm, you know?”

_How can you not like living in a mansion?! _ Mio had only been to Tsumugi’s estate once, but that single visit was more than enough to make her and the rest of the Light Music Club never want to leave. “Really?” she questioned. “Your estate is so wonderful though.”

Though Tsumugi laughed lightly at Mio’s question, her eyes didn’t light up. “I’m glad you like it, Mio-chan. Being here though… it just feels more natural, I suppose.”

Thinking about it, Mio started to grasp some idea of what Tsumugi was getting at. There was something comfortable about being in the clubroom, even when it was nearly empty. The room had a welcoming feel to it, promising familiarity, if nothing else. “I understand,” Mio spoke, not wanting to disturb the peace she was finding within herself. “It does feel natural.”

Conversation continued in an airy manner as the two girls sipped tea and discussed only the most frivolous topics. Without Yui or Ritsu, one could even call the atmosphere normal for a high school lunch. Anxiety still gnawed at Mio’s conscious, however, refusing to let her fully enjoy the moment peacefully. As desperately as she attempted to relax, the hounds of worry continued to snap at her ankles, demanding she take action. Eventually, she could stand it no longer. _Fine. If I’m not going to deal with Ton-chan today, let’s deal with something else. There’s never a shortage of problems to solve. _

As the two girls rose to wash the tea cups and their plates in the music room’s sink, Mio made her move. “Mugi-chan, what should we do about Yui-chan and Azusa-chan? They haven’t been the same since Tuesday.” She tried to keep her tone casual as she started drying a tea cup.

All motion from Tsumugi ceased instantly. Water coursed around her idle hands, slowly filling the tea cup she was holding as the temperature of the room plummeted. “Don’t use those names, not here,” she whispered ominously. “The walls have ears.” The tea cup filled up and began to bleed water into all four corners of the sink messily.

Slightly disturbed by the strange response, Mio put away the cup she had been drying while she considered what could even begin to qualify as an appropriate response. “I… I see. If you really don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, I just-”

“Oh, my apologies, did I do it wrong?” Tsumugi interrupted, the innocent blush on her cheeks restoring order to the clubroom. “I’ve always wanted to try out that line. I meant we should go somewhere together to talk about it, since there’s no club activities today.”

A massive sigh of relief came from Mio as she threw away the radical conclusions her mind had been jumping to. “Ah, I see. That sounds like a great idea, Mugi-chan. Is there somewhere you wanted to go?”

The enthusiasm radiating off of Tsumugi made it impossible for Mio not to smile. “Yes! I’ve been meaning to take you all there for a while now. We should invite Ricchan, too!”

Several reasons why inviting Ritsu to a potentially volatile discussion regarding the guitarist’s issues immediately popped into Mio’s mind, but Ritsu didn’t let her voice any of them. “Sounds great! What are we talking about?” Ritsu called out, waltzing into the clubroom casually.

Mio sighed, knowing there was now no chance of leaving Ritsu out of the discussion. _I suppose that would just create more problems than it solves anyways. It’s not like we could keep it a secret from her. I just hope she takes this seriously. _“Mugi-chan and I were thinking of going somewhere to discuss what to do about our guitarists,” Mio explained.

Ritsu’s eager expression died painfully. “Oh, really? Pass.” She waved her hand in the air, already closing the door to the clubroom behind her.

“I’ll give you some food on the train!” Tsumugi called after the retreating drummer.

Like a videotape in reverse, Ritsu’s actions rewound on themselves, and the girl marched directly up to Tsumugi, who was still finishing her dishwashing with a knowing grin. “What are we doing standing around here for? Those two guitarists need our help!” Without waiting for a reply, Ritsu began to drag Tsumugi out of the classroom.

Ignoring the headache Mio felt rapidly coming on, she finished the cleaning task Tsumugi had failed to complete before Ritsu arrived. She could hear Ritsu badgering a stoic Tsumugi for information regarding where they were going as she scooped up the heiress’s forgotten school bag for her. It felt like she was walking into another training camp where everyone ended up playing all day instead of practicing. The sound of Tsumugi and Ritsu’s carefree laughter punctuated her fears nicely. “What did I just sign up for…” she muttered to herself, stepping out of the clubroom to pursue her friends.

* * *

**November 10th, 30 Minutes Later**

As it happened, Tsumugi’s chosen location for a place to hang out was halfway across town. Though it was tempting to try and bring up Yui and Azusa several times, Mio kept her mouth shut. Ritsu was distracted for most of the journey by a sandwich Tsumugi provided, and Tsumugi herself seemed content to fiddle with the contents of her bag. Without willing participants, Mio couldn’t make much progress. In any case, there wouldn’t be much of a point in travelling if they reached a conclusion before their destination. So, Mio restricted her thoughts to her mind.

_Yui-chan and Azusa-chan see eye-to-eye on things about as often as Yui-chan and I do, but Azusa-chan’s never acted this cold towards anyone before, even Yui-chan. Yui-chan acts normal if you talk to her, but she’s been uncharacteristically silent otherwise, and she’s practically ignoring Azusa-chan. They had some sort of fight, according to Mugi-chan, and Yui-chan also ended up with an injured arm on the same day. If they got into an argument because Azusa-chan couldn’t find Ton-chan’s food, then this is my fault, but I can’t think like that right now. I should be focused on finding a solution, not a cause._

Mio leaned her head back against her seat. No matter how many times she ran the facts over in her head, the conclusions she came to only grew darker. Like so many of her recent problems, she wasn’t even sure where to begin attacking the issue. Several train stops and Tsumugi’s intended destination arrived before Mio could come to any meaningful conclusion. The heiress had been getting progressively more excited as they approached their destination, to the point where she was barely containing herself by the time they had actually reached their goal. “We’re here!” she announced, holding her hands out dramatically and nearly losing her bag in the process.

Ritsu and Mio raised an eyebrow collectively. They were standing in front of the café where they had taken Mio to do her special performance training several weeks ago. “You wanted us to stop having tea in the clubroom so we could have tea somewhere else?” Mio questioned, confused.

“I’m not wearing another maid outfit,” Ritsu told her friend bluntly, crossing her arms.

Tsumugi’s giggle cured a nearby child’s hiccups. “I didn’t bring us here to work or eat. Follow me!”

The two childhood friends exchanged a look. Ritsu shrugged and followed Tsumugi obediently. Hoping her friends hadn’t already forgotten the purpose of their trip, Mio joined them. Tsumugi exchanged a few words with a well-dressed man at the entrance, who was apparently expecting her. The three girls made their way directly through the café, passing several wealthy-looking customers, coming straight out the other side into a completely different world. A massive, impeccably-trimmed hedge maze, obscured from the front of the café by the trees surrounding the ritzy restaurant, took up the girl’s entire vision. The only distinguishable landmark Mio could see besides the nearby entrance to the maze was a large fountain in what Mio assumed was the center. Flowers of various vibrant colors bloomed in every hedge, the hedges themselves coming up to about Mio’s shoulders. Blues wrapped around reds and yellows, playing with purples, oranges, and every color in between, evoking the image of paint splattered haphazardly against a green wall. Several gardeners could be seen tending to the testament to the beauty of nature, stoic caretakers for the child of their labor. “Holy shit…” Ritsu gawked. “This was behind that café the whole time?!”

Mio didn’t even have the wherewithal to slap Ritsu for her language. “It’s another reason this café is so popular,” Tsumugi explained, her own eyes shining. “I wanted to visit it with everyone the last time we were here, but it didn’t feel appropriate, with Mio’s training going on and all. I thought this might be a nice change of scenery. Normally, there’s a wait to get in, but the owner is doing us a favor this time. Shall we?”

Ritsu didn’t need any more convincing, and she immediately bolted for the entrance. The reaction dragged Mio out of the world of lyrics the scene was providing her, and she attempted to snatch Ritsu by the collar, missing her bag by a fingertip. “Baka! Come back! We aren’t here to- she’s gone.” Mio’s shoulders sagged submissively.

A map materialized in front of Mio’s eyes, held aloft by her remaining friend. “I thought this might happen,” Tsumugi admitted, the grin on her face telling Mio she seemed to be enjoying the direction things were going. “Let’s head for the center. I’m sure Ricchan will end up there when she gets tired. Besides, we can enjoy ourselves a little, right?”

Willpower abandoned Mio as her eyes continued to gawk at the alluring sight in front of her. “I suppose we could look around, since we bothered to come out here.”

The hedge maze wasn’t nearly as cramped as Mio had initially assumed it would be, and with Tsumugi’s map, she could almost pretend she was strolling through a neighborhood where all the buildings had been replaced by colorful hedges. Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of the top of Ritsu’s head bobbing up and down as she stampeded around the garden, accompanied by startled yelps from anyone she happened to pass by. Though thoughts of her troubles swirled around in her head, Mio continued to find distraction in the scenery around her. Small animals brought the hedges to life, with one particularly bold squirrel darting out directly in front of them before rushing back into the cover of the foliage, startling both Tsumugi and Mio before they laughed at their own reactions. _This is surreal. I had no idea nature could be so pretty._ Even passing by white stone benches occupied by other customers didn’t break the illusion Mio had built for herself that she had entered some sort of other world. _We’re like girls in wonderland… hm. I bet I can use that. Mou, I’m never ready to write down lyrics when I need to!_

Tsumugi led the pair happily, content to enjoy simply observing her friend’s childlike enthusiasm. Not enough time had passed for Mio before the pair had arrived in the center of the maze. The grassy area surrounding the fountain, which depicted several different types of flowers spewing out streams of water, was relatively clear. More benches encircled the outer area and the fountain, the outer benches separated by multiple reentry points to the garden. Even taking the center of the maze alone put its size on the same scale as the front of Sakuragaoka High. Leaning against the extravagant fountain was Ritsu, who appeared to be somewhat out of breath. The familiar face reminded Mio of one of the reasons she was irritated, and she marched over to her childhood friend. When Mio’s shadow fell over her, Ritsu looked up cheekily. “Fancy meeting you here, slowpoke,” Ritsu teased.

A smack was the only response Ritsu received. As the drummer winced, Tsumugi found a nearby bench and took a seat, amused. In favor of not getting hit again, Ritsu sat casually against the fountain, drawing annoyed looks from the gardeners nearby as the drummer continued to ignore the perfectly good seating options around her. “Fine, if we’re gonna discuss this, let’s make it quick. I want to explore. This place rocks.”

Pleased that her selection was being praised, Tsumugi nodded enthusiastically. Mio sighed. “Take this seriously. Nice as this place is, we need to focus. Something’s happened between Yui-chan and Azusa-chan, and it’s driving them apart. This warrants our attention.”

The drummer shook her head sadly. “We can’t seem to go two days without a crisis anymore…” She straightened up under Mio’s glare. “Ahem, in any case, Mugi, didn’t you say they had a fight a few days ago?”

An unpleasant memory was clearly being replayed in the blonde’s mind. She began folding and unfolding the map in her hands neurotically. “Yes, two days ago now. I didn’t get to hear the whole thing, but Azusa-chan was angrier than I’ve ever heard her, and Yui-chan was… calm? It’s hard to say, they stopped before I could hear anything that confirmed what was going on. They’ve been rather cold towards each other since then. Yui-chan hasn’t hugged Azusa-chan at all, and Azusa-chan won’t even look at Yui-chan for more than a second or two.”

Mio started to pace back and forth across the short distance between her two friends, leaving her bag next to Tsumugi. “That’s troubling. It’s also worth mentioning that, despite that, Azusa-chan was the first one to notice Yui-chan’s injury yesterday, as well as the one who suggested she see a doctor.”

“Are you trying to imply that the bruise on Yui’s arm is Nakano’s fault?” Ritsu asked, staring intently at some coins pooled at the bottom of the fountain.

The first answer that popped into Mio’s head disturbed her, no matter how many times it had happened when she prepared for this conversation on the train. “No…” she muttered unconvincingly.

_As much as Yui-chan annoys Azusa-chan, I doubt Azusa-chan would ever seriously try to harm Yui-chan. But then how did she find out that Yui-chan was hurt when she was hiding it so well that she fooled even us? Not to mention Yui-chan wouldn’t tell us how she got hurt. It doesn’t add up. They’re both behaving too strangely._

“I don’t think Azusa-chan would seriously try to hurt someone, particularly one of us,” Tsumugi piped up. “Even if she did, why would she bother pointing out Yui-chan’s pain afterwards?”

Silently thanking Tsumugi for her burst of logical reasoning, Mio nodded thoughtfully. “Good point. At the least, we can assume it wasn’t intentionally caused by Azusa-chan, but I think she definitely knows something about it that we don’t. What do you think, Ritsu?”

When both girls turned to Ritsu for her input, Mio blanched at the sight of her friend’s head and arms completely submerged in the fountain. She thought she could hear the sound of some of the gardeners holding back one of their coworkers from charging at Ritsu with his shears. When Ritsu’s head broke the surface once more, she was holding a 500-yen coin and grinning from ear to ear. “Mio! Mugi! There’s tons of money in here!” she exclaimed. “This place really is the best!”

“That’s bad luck, baka!” Mio snapped, snatching the coin out of her friend’s hand and tossing it back in the fountain. “Do you want to get us kicked out? Focus! We’re talking about our future here!”

Reading the room, Ritsu’s grin faded into a rare expression of urgency. “Look, it’s obvious that whatever happened to Yui’s arm has something to do with Nakano. The alternative is she’s leading a double life as either a vigilante or a gang member, and we all know that’s impossible.”

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Azusa-chan would hurt Yui-chan. Even you’re not that stupid,” Mio reasoned, hoping she sounded convincing to herself.

Ritsu frowned at Mio, wiping her wet hands off on her bag. “We don’t know that she wouldn’t, especially if Yui charged her for a hug at the wrong time. I love Nakano as much as the next girl, but we can’t rule out the idea that the reason they’re acting so weird is because of that bruise.”

“No!” Tsumugi insisted fiercely, blushing a bit when she realized how dramatically she had reacted. “I mean, there’s no way Azusa-chan would ever intentionally harm Yui-chan. If that sort of thing was happening, there’s no way Yui-chan would stay so quiet, even if it was Azusa-chan. It’s impossible.”

Mio found herself nodding along with Tsumugi. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. For all we know, Yui-chan forgot how she injured herself. It’s happened before.”

Water droplets fell from loose strands of Ritsu’s hair, creating a personal rain cloud for the girl to accompany her contemplative look. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I don’t want to believe what I’m saying either. It’s upsetting.”

The sudden shift in Ritsu’s mood towards taking things seriously prompted Mio to raise her eyebrow at her friend. Ritsu was pleasantly surprising her with how seriously she appeared to be taking the issue, despite her initial missteps. _Perhaps I misjudged you in this case, Ritsu. You care a lot about our future too, don’t you? _

“Speaking of hitting people, I wonder if I could sue Mio for all the times she’s smacked me,” Ritsu mused to herself. “I bet I’d make a lot of money for the emotional damage alone-ow!”

“This is discipline,” Mio explained solemnly, though she intentionally held back with her strike, the offending hand trembling at the thought of owing Ritsu any amount of money. “Besides, you hit me too, sometimes.”

Ritsu noticed her friend’s shaking and chuckled while Tsumugi looked on with a faraway smile. “You and I both know who’s guiltier in that regard. You’re lucky I’m so forgiving, Mio,” Ritsu teased. “You’d have been drowning in the barnacles in this fountain by now if I were someone else.”

Even the thought of such a fate promptly removed all color from Mio’s face. She crouched down where she stood, hands over her head, muttering about death and sea life. It took a full minute of coaxing from a concerned Tsumugi and a giddy Ritsu for Mio to recover. When she did, she made sure to put Tsumugi and Ritsu between herself and the pristine, barnacle-free fountain. “I’ll sue you for scaring me constantly,” she challenged weakly.

Amused, Ritsu put her hands behind her head. “I guess we’ll have to call it even then.” Her expression became puzzled. “Wait, what were we talking about again?”

“Yui-chan and Azusa-chan,” Mio recalled, sighing to herself. _Why can’t I even focus on this?_

The drummer nodded in understanding, rising from her makeshift fountain seat. “Oh yeah. Well, accident or not, what matters is what we do next to get them to make up. If you ask me, it’ll be easier to convince Yui to try to make the first move.” Ritsu paused long enough to turn her gaze to the sky. “But before that, we should get the whole story from her. Whatever’s convincing her to spend her free time up on the roof must really be eating at her. Geez, never thought I’d say something was eating at Yui of all people.”

Having stood up to console Mio, Tsumugi now took a step back bashfully, averting her gaze from the eyes of her friends. “I… may have suggested going up on the roof to her,” Tsumugi admitted, prompting the attention of the room to return to her.

Several thoughts ran through Mio’s head, but the only the prevailing one found her voice. “Why?” she asked at the same time as Ritsu.

Tsumugi started to circle the fountain pensively, prompting Ritsu and Mio to trail behind their friend, curious. “Yui-chan going up on the roof was my idea,” the blonde reiterated. “She was feeling… troubled, so I suggested she find a private place to think. At the time, I didn’t realize how badly the argument had affected the two of them. I was hoping she would use the time to find a way to patch things up between herself and Azusa-chan quickly.”

Though Mio wasn’t an expert on reading people, years of experience taught her enough about Ritsu’s habits to know when the girl was lying, and Tsumugi had learned how to lie from Ritsu. There was something Tsumugi had omitted from her anecdote, but Mio had no clue what it was. The lackluster explanation clearly wasn’t well received by Ritsu either. “Well, she hasn’t. In fact, knowing that girl, I’m certain she won’t. She’s probably just napping up there.” Images of Yui napping in between almost all of their classes flashed in Mio’s head, inspiring her to agree.

“No, I believe in her,” Tsumugi defended. “You know how Yui-chan is when she gets some idea in her head. Remember finals a while ago?”

Frowns dominated Tsumugi’s friends’ faces. _She did perform exceptionally well for her on exams when Azusa-chan made her study. But this and that are two different things_. _You can’t solve problems like this just by thinking more often about them. I’ve tried. You end up thinking about turtles. _ “Give Yui a specific physical task and enough reason to act, and she’ll nail it. Tell her to think deeply about something, and she’ll take a nap,” Ritsu explained helpfully.

“I’m glad you have faith in her, but I’m not sure Yui-chan has the patience to do nothing but think for long periods of time like that,” Mio elaborated, grateful that she and Ritsu were on the same page. “She can barely stand waiting for class to be over.”

Being shot down was having a rather adverse effect on Tsumugi. She opened her mouth to respond and closed it again without a word. Her gait died, and Mio and Ritsu were forced to stop to avoid running into her.

“We’re literally going in circles without getting to the point,” Mio pressed on. “We should be focusing on how to get things back to normal between everyone.”

An ominous breeze suddenly swept through the garden maze, bringing the flowers around them to life. Caught off guard, Mio turned towards the direction the wind had come from, as if there was a source she could blame for it. When Mio refocused on Tsumugi, her blood froze. The heiress had stood up perfectly straight, with her hands clenched into tight fists. The wind had blown her hair in front of her face, partially covering her empty eyes. Her gentle smile was replaced with a commanding frown. The aura she gave off was practically regal, and Mio felt like she had just wandered into Tsumugi’s garden uninvited. “We can’t go back to normal,” Tsumugi decided, her voice impossibly sweet. “It’s too late. If we don’t get them to come to terms with their emotions now, they’ll never properly recover. Things have to change if we’re to stay together.”

Mio shivered. The person in front of her looked and sounded like Tsumugi, but the way she carried herself was completely foreign to the bassist. “Well, Mio and I tried telling Azusa how we generally think Yui is feeling, and that went about as well as you’d expect,” Ritsu retorted, unintimidated by Tsumugi’s shift. “I get that you’re concerned, but it’s painfully obvious that we don’t have all the facts here. You seem to believe Yui knows what’s going on. If you’re so sure Yui can figure this out herself, why bring us out here?”

The edge to Ritsu’s tone surprised Mio almost as much as it did Tsumugi. The blonde, clearly not expecting to have been challenged so directly, snapped back into her familiar persona. “I…I’m sorry. I know we don’t know exactly what’s going on between Yui-chan and Azusa-chan,” she admitted, a bit flustered. “But I can’t ignore what my heart is saying! No matter what solution Yui-chan comes up with, we have to do what we can to help them get back together as their friends! The band depends on us being able to change!”

Mio stared at the aftermath of the showdown between her two friends. _When did Mugi-chan get so adamant about all of this? And Ritsu is just as fired up, in her own way. Where does that leave me? I want to help everyone, but I can’t. We all have the same goal, but nobody agrees on how to go about handling it. We’re all still dealing with the effects of graduation in different ways. Is this what bands go through before they break up?_

Aghast at her own thought, Mio slapped herself across the cheek, drawing a baffled stare from her friends. “Oi, you good over there, Mio?” Ritsu asked. “Don’t you start freaking out on me too.”

Swallowing her shame, Mio nodded. “I just wanted to focus myself. If we can’t get more information right now, then let’s at least try to get on the same page about things. I doubt Yui-chan is intentionally hiding anything from us, but we can’t talk to her right now, and Azusa-chan probably would get suspicious if we started asking her questions, especially from Ritsu or me. That means we need to make sure all of our important assumptions line up before we decide on our next move.”

Mio’s careful explanation seemed to placate both of her friends, at least for the moment. All three girls leaned against the fountain, no longer caring about barnacles or what the people around them thought. The mesmerizing flowers gently swayed in the wind, a forewarning of the dark evening clouds that were beginning to gather in the sky. As club president, Ritsu took control first. “Okay, if that’s where we’re going with this, let’s start here: Raise your hand if you think Yui likes Nakano.”

Three hands raised at the exact same time. Ritsu nodded thoughtfully to herself. “Good, good. Now keep them up if you think Yui _loves _Nakano.”

Tsumugi and Mio kept their hands in the air, but Ritsu had lowered her own before she had even finished asking the question. She frowned when she saw the results of her poll, clearly not expecting the outcome. “Hold on,” Mio accused, pointing a finger at Ritsu. “You were the one who said a few days ago that Yui-chan was crazy about Azusa-chan.”

Ritsu waved off her accusation. “I said crazy about, not in love with. There’s a difference between infatuation and love, you know. I thought fairy-tale girl would know that of all people.”

As Mio raised a hand to smack her closest friend, Ritsu allowed her hand to dip into the fountain casually. Recognizing the watery threat to her clothes, Mio ceased her attack, feeling cheated. “Be that as it may, they’ve known each other for almost two years,” Tsumugi pointed out. “It’s been a bit long for a claim like that to still hold water, wouldn’t you say?”

The least convincing shrug Mio had even seen was Ritsu’s initial response. “Who knows? I don’t have the experience to answer that question. All I know is that Yui treats Nakano the way she treats just about anything else she finds cute. Mou, if you factor out the excessive hugs, she treats Nakano about the same as everyone else.”

Something about what Ritsu was saying felt wrong to Mio, but she couldn’t put a finger on exactly what. It was a frustratingly common theme she couldn’t seem to escape from since their festival. She decided to try a different approach to save the conversation from becoming another argument between her friends. “What about this, then? Raise your hand if you think Azusa-chan has feelings for Yui-chan.”

Tsumugi started to raise her hand, but when she realized that she would be the only one, she quickly allowed it to fall. Internally, Mio was conflicted as well, despite the question being her own. _I’ve never really thought too hard about it, how Azusa-chan feels about Yui-chan’s… affection. If she really didn’t like it, she would have put a stop to it by now, right? But perhaps she didn’t feel like she could, because Yui-chan is her senpai. If that’s the case, then perhaps she finally just got fed up with it this week? But why now? Ugh, this is impossible. _

Ritsu shook her head in unknowing agreement with Mio. “This is like playing the drums without drumsticks. If we don’t have a solid grasp of the situation, we’re as good as powerless to be helpful to them. We’d be better off letting Yui handle it herself.”

Tsumugi looked away, creating patterns in the grass with her shoe. The way Ritsu had phrased the idea of following Tsumugi’s original plan didn’t inspire her to celebrate. Ritsu appeared more frustrated than Mio had seen her friend since she had failed to get out of the leading role in the school festival. The drummer slammed one of her hands against the side of the fountain, earning a red mark for her troubles. “Powerless, huh…” Mio whispered, out of earshot of her friends.

_That sums it up nicely. The final word in today’s song. I can’t help any of them. It’s… too scary, trying to think about the future, when none of the options are good. Now I can’t even help them resolve their current issues. I’m powerless._

_You’re useless because you’re not powerless and you’re acting like you are._

Startled, Mio blinked. She gripped the edge of the fountain with both hands to prevent herself from falling in. The voice from earlier had returned, but there was something familiar about it. Desperate to reach any sort of answer, Mio concentrated on the voice.

_I’ve heard something like that before. But from where? Damn it, think, Mio! It was… it was…_

A hazy memory became clear once more in Mio’s mind. Her senses were overwhelmed, and she felt herself simultaneously existing in the center of a hedge maze and at her home five days ago. It was late at night, later than she normally bothered to stay up, and the other events of the day had washed the last moments of the night from her taxed mind. “I remember!” Mio realized with a shout, shooting up out of her seat and nearly sending her friends into the fountain.

* * *

**November 5th, 11:26 PM**

“Ne, Mio-chan, are you still awake?”

The voice piercing the darkness in Mio’s room was so vulnerable that Mio had to resist the urge to give it a hug. She settled for gripping the blankets covering her more tightly. “Yes,” Mio whispered, not wanting to wake her parents up.

There was silence for a moment. Mio began to wonder if she was dreaming. Before Yui had appeared at her house a few hours ago, begging for a place to stay, Mio had been under the impression that everything was getting better. The feeling of accomplishment she had left that morning feeling was washed away by the evening distress of her friend. They had supposedly begun to move on, only for a new problem to immediately take the place of the previous one. Waking up would be a nice alternative to that.

With a few promises and some desperate begging, Mio had cajoled her parents into letting Yui stay the night without asking questions. Her plan A of trying to get Yui to go home and face up to her own parents had failed miserably. Azusa was unavailable, likely sleeping off her illness, and Tsumugi had no advice that Mio hadn’t already tried to impart on the stubborn guitarist. She had been forced to settle for telling Yui to speak to Azusa tomorrow under the guise of checking on her health. Though it wasn’t ideal sending Yui to bother a sick person, there was no doubt in Mio’s mind that Azusa had the best chance of any of them of convincing Yui to go home if they couldn’t. The darkness that removed one of Mio’s senses weighed on the bassist heavily, reminding her that she was at least partially responsible for encouraging Yui’s behavior. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my problems,” Yui spoke softly, matching Mio’s tone. “I don’t want to ruin the moment we had this morning.”

It was tempting to issue some sort of reprimand, but Mio held herself back. Her friend didn’t need more reason to be upset right now. Instead, Mio smiled uselessly at the voice in the darkness. “None of us could ever get mad at you for leaning on us when you need help,” she reassured her friend. “You were there for us this morning, and we want to be there for you. Promise me you’ll at least consider talking to your parents and Azusa-chan tomorrow though.”

The distinct sound of skin rubbing against sleeping bag told Mio that Yui was nodding at her in the darkness, and she sighed to herself. It was typical of Yui to forget that her friend couldn’t see her. “Okay,” came Yui’s audible response, giving Mio an image of Yui blushing in embarrassment in the blackness as she realized her mistake.

Satisfied that their conversation was over, Mio rolled to one side in her bed to sleep. Just as she was about to drift off, however, Yui’s voice returned. “I’m powerless,” Yui whispered, barely audibly. “No matter how I look at our graduation, there’s no event that ends with everyone staying together. My solution when it comes to problems like this has always been to not think about it. If you don’t think about it, then you can’t get worried.”

Intrigued and concerned in equal parts by Yui’s monologue, Mio turned over to face nothing again. The concept of not thinking was foreign to Mio. It was impossible for the bassist not to always be thinking about any problems she had at any given time, to not be planning her next move and the five that came after that. She constantly had to be processing, solving, learning, even if she only ended up going in circles. Trying not to think about something only made it impossible not to think about that thing. “How can you just not think about something?” Mio questioned, sitting up in her bed.

By the sound of things, Yui also sat up in her sleeping bag. “It’s not hard. You just don’t. You know me. Learn one thing, forget another? You can call it a talent if you want. But… I can’t get this problem out of my head. It won’t go away.”

Mio frowned. “Is that why you won’t go home?” she asked, a bit more harshly than she meant to.

“That’s different,” Yui insisted seriously. “It’s their fault this is happening, not mine. They… they don’t understand me, or Ui. They never will.”

_Not if you don’t talk to them, _Mio held back from saying. A voice within her was warning her not to push Yui too hard right now.

“I’m sorry,” Yui continued. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with this, but I wasn’t sure where else to go on short notice. I feel bad just being here.”

_She feels bad. Yui came to me for help and I’ve been thinking about how soon I can send her home. But that’s what’s best for this situation, isn’t it? _Mio wondered to herself what Ritsu would have done in her situation. _She’d haven taken Yui in without question. They’d be up playing board games right now. Yui-chan knows that, so why’d she come to me? There has to be a reason, right? _“Why’d you come to me?” the bassist asked, voicing her thoughts unintentionally.

“It doesn’t really matter who I go to, right?” Yui asked innocently, catching Mio off guard. “You’re closer to home than Ricchan and Mugi-chan, and Azu-nyan is sick. I know we don’t agree often, but you’re just as important to me as everyone else, even when you’re being strict.”

The response was so candid that Mio was speechless. There was nothing she could think to say that didn’t sound selfish in comparison to Yui’s opinion. _Damn. That’s twice in one day she’s left me speechless. She really did mean what she said this morning, maybe even more than the rest of us. No, that’s not right. I know I care just as much about HTT as the others. I just… don’t know what to do next. My path isn’t going to be their path soon. I can’t just not go for the best university I can attend. That’d be like throwing away my potential, right?_

“Still, I was a bit worried you wouldn’t let me stay over,” Yui admitted bashfully, getting Mio’s attention. “Especially since Ricchan told me you go to bed early because darkness scares you.”

Mio blinked a few times, then slowly moved her hand to flick the switch on the lamp next to her bed. Light flooded Mio’s room, causing both occupants to squint for an instant as their eyes adjusted. Sitting on her bed, Mio was able to take in the form of Yui, sitting up and facing her friend while wrapped tightly in a sleeping bag, as if it was protecting her. Confirming that Yui was indeed serious about Ritsu’s claim, Mio frowned. “I’m going to kill that girl,” she muttered. “She’s lying, Yui.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Yui answered jovially. “I think she forgot that we text each other at night sometimes.”

_Or she assumed you forgot that. _Having turned on the light, Mio felt committed to saying something more than simply confirming the inanity of her childhood friend. Yui noticed the shift in expression of her friend and tilted her head, the added weight of the sleeping bag nearly causing her to fall over. Ignoring the display, Mio spoke her mind. “I care a lot too. I know I said it this morning, but I want to say it again. I’m strict because I want us to succeed. Though I’d like you to explain yourself, I’ll never turn my back on you or any of the others when you need help. You can always rely on me, even though I can’t be of much help. Well, to be blunt, I’m useless. I don’t know what to do about the future, and I can’t help you with your parents.” With her own words depressing her, Mio turned away, wishing she hadn’t turned the light on so Yui could see the tears forming in her eyes.

_That’s the problem. I’m useless. I need everyone to do things for me. To take care of scaredy-cat Mio. It used to just be Ritsu, and now it’s the whole club. Poor Mio. Scared of her own future. _Tugging her blanket tightly over herself did little to defend Mio from her own thoughts.

Yui stared at Mio. Mio stared at the ground. “I rely on you and the others for everything. That’s why I want us to stay together. Without you all, I’d still be on the way to becoming a NEET. You’re not useless, Mio, you’re just acting like it. I’ve done things I never thought I’d be able to do three years ago because of you all. You have, too, I bet. Together, we can all be something more than what we are. That’s what I think, at least.” The airhead laid back down on the ground, stifling a yawn.

It took Mio more than a moment to process what she had just heard. Yui, the person who was supposed to have the problem between the two of them, was the one who ended up comforting her. _But that’s just like Yui-chan. Despite her carefree nature, she always seems to know how to pull us together or pick us up when she needs to. If she believes in me, I at least owe it to her to live up to those expectations, while I can_. “I can’t give up. I’m not going to give up,” Mio declared. “I’ll find a way to keep the band together after graduation. You can believe in me.”

Yui’s expression broke out into a drowsy smile from the ground. “Thanks, Mio-chan! I’ll do my best too. Let’s find a solution together, okay?”

Mio nodded emphatically. “No matter what Ritsu says, we’re going to find the fairy-tale ending. Like you said, there’s nothing we can’t do together.” Yui’s nod was the last thing Mio saw as she turned off the light once more. “But for now, we need to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yui.”

“Okay. Good night, Mio-chan.”

“Good night, Yui-chan.”

_…I wish I could turn my night light on._

* * *

**November 10th**

“That came out of nowhere,” Ritsu commented from the ground, rubbing her aching back. “Did you remember that you owe me money or something?”

“We can’t just give up on helping Yui-chan and Azusa-chan,” Mio insisted, ignoring Ritsu’s commentary and the baffled expression on Tsumugi’s face. “Even if we don’t agree. Yui-chan is trying her hardest, so we can’t be the ones waiting for a solution to solve things between them. She’s counting on us to help her.”

Ritsu made a show of looking around dramatically as she stood up. “Where’s Yui? Because unless she’s here, telling you that she wants our help to your face, I don’t see where you’re coming from.”

“I do,” Tsumugi spoke up, catching Ritsu off guard. “Yui-chan doesn’t like to show us when she’s really sad. She told me that herself. I think the last few weeks have been the hardest on both her and Azusa-chan, for various reasons. If she’s still putting on a happy face for us, that means she’s expecting a solution at some point. We should do our best too.”

Though Mio was exactly on the same page as the heiress, she could practically see the point go flying over Ritsu’s head. “I guess the reasoning doesn’t matter that much.” The drummer eventually chuckled, forgoing thought for action. “It’s just like Yui to con us into doing her work for her anyways.”

Tsumugi nodded ecstatically in agreement. “She does have a way of making you do what she wants.”

“It’s irritating,” Mio muttered, staring at her reflection in the pool as her train of thought was redirected. “So many lost practice hours…”

Ritsu splashed Mio’s reflection in the fountain, scaring her backwards a few meters. “Don’t think about it like that, doom and gloom,” she ordered, only partially kidding. “Yui’s part of the soul of Hokago Tea Time. Without her, there wouldn’t be a band. Same goes for all of us.”

“And Azusa-chan,” Tsumugi added helpfully.

“Her too,” Ritsu agreed. “She’s the only one who has the wherewithal to say no to Yui anyways. We need her.”

Having recovered from Ritsu’s trick, Mio crossed her arms stubbornly. “Are you saying we let her do whatever she wants? What are we, doormats?” she chided harshly.

“Says the one who let her barge into your home uninvited a week ago,” Ritsu pointed out hotly.

There wasn’t much Mio could say in response to that. “Touché,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Tsumugi swooped in to save the situation. “It’s not that we’re doormats, Mio-chan. You stop Yui-chan and Ricchan from slacking off when you need to. I’d say we perfectly balance each other out.”

Although Mio wasn’t entirely sure what Tsumugi meant by that, she understood the general idea of what her friend was saying. “You’re right, I suppose. We’re not Hokago Tea Time without our guitarists. I wouldn’t want anyone other than Azusa-chan or Yui-chan.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment. It was the truth they all implicitly understood, which made dealing with things like arguments all the more difficult for Mio. _How do you find a solution for problems that aren’t supposed to exist? We didn’t form a band with a plan of how to break things off. Mou, I’ve been thinking about what our band’s going to do more than what I’m going to do next year, and that’s not even considering the problems going on right now. Ritsu usually handles things like that. I guess I rely on her too. I should tell her that sometime when she isn’t being annoying. I guess I’ll never tell her. _

Ritsu eventually brought the group back down to reality. “Okay, so, back to square one. What are we doing to get our guitarists playing again?”

“Something drastic,” Tsumugi answered immediately. “I have some ideas for how to get Yui-chan and Azusa-chan to confess-“

“No,” both Mio and Ritsu responded as one, cutting the heiress off.

“We need to take this one step at a time,” Mio insisted. “We can’t solve the problem of March if we don’t handle the problem today. And we’re not dealing with the romance thing. Unless one of them comes to us about it, our only concern should be repairing their friendship, not playing matchmaker.”

“Unless it might be funny,” Ritsu added, taking a step backwards before Mio could smack her. “But actually though, I agree. I want a happy club again.”

Tsumugi was clearly disappointed, but she nodded along with the group’s consensus. “Then why don’t we focus on having them talk to each other directly tomorrow?” she suggested. “That’d be the most direct way to resolve the issue.”

“That’s risky,” Mio mused. “She might still be mad at me and Ritsu for what we said to her about Yui-chan, or unwilling to talk to Yui-chan at all. There has to be a more subtle way to do this.”

“Or a more direct direct way,” Ritsu broke in, inspired. “Let’s apologize to Azusa first. If we clear the air with her about what we said, maybe she’ll be willing to hear Yui out. Let’s just tell her we’re worried about how they’re acting and want to help. Then we’ll play it by ear from there, just like our best performances.”

“I can make special cakes!” Tsumugi insisted, bouncing up and down with a raised hand. “We can say it’s for Azusa-chan’s birthday as an excuse!”

“We don’t need an excuse to bring cake into our clubroom,” Mio ruefully admitted. “But anything that’ll put them in a better mood is welcome. Much as I’d like a more coherent plan, that might be the best we can do for today. We can try again with more information if it doesn’t work, but I’d like to try and resolve this before our party on Sunday, so everyone can properly enjoy themselves.”

Stretching her arms out as if to grab hold of the slowly dimming sky, Ritsu nodded. “Good point,” she complimented. “After the last few weeks, we deserve a wild party.”

Mio nodded, as did Tsumugi, albeit a bit less enthusiastically. The drummer looked between her companions. “Well, if that’s the plan, then I’d like to run around some more. The colors look really cool when you run fast enough.”

“One more moment, please,” Tsumugi spoke, fishing in her bag for a moment to retrieve three 500-yen coins from her bag. “Let’s make a wish on the fountain first. That’s another reason I wanted to come here, after all. It’s said that wishes made on this fountain are guaranteed to come true.”

Without allowing Ritsu to run off, Tsumugi passed out coins to her bandmates. Ritsu stared at the coin in her hand dubiously, but Mio was starstruck. “Really?” she asked, a bit of awe in her voice as she looked at the fountain, admonishing herself for ever believing such a wish granting fountain could have contained barnacles.

A bit of pep returning to her demeanor, Tsumugi confirmed her statement. “I thought it would be a good place to wish for our success in the future. Of course, we’ll have to bring Yui-chan and Azusa-chan back here for that, so why don’t we wish for tomorrow to go well?”

Ritsu sighed, staring at the dreamy look in her friend’s eyes. “Well, the sooner I can get back to exploring, the better.”

Without another word, Ritsu flipped the silver coin into the fountain, creating a satisfying splash. Before the water had settled, the drummer had already taken off, yelling at Mio to watch her bag for her. Excited by seeing it happen in front of her, Tsumugi quickly launched her own wish into the fountain, whispering something to herself. Unprepared for the sudden activation of wishes, Mio hesitated a bit longer.

_Wishes… This is my chance. I can make a wish that will overwrite the stupid request I wrote on that card! But I should probably just wish for things to go well tomorrow. _Mio’s hand turned the coin over to her thumb, preparing to flip it in.

Just as she was about to complete her movement, she froze. _No. I’m going to make things right tomorrow myself, with my own power and the help of my friends. Just like how I’m going to find a solution to March, just like I promised Yui-chan. It’s not just for her, though. It’s for everyone. I don’t need a wish to tell me the answer to what needs to be done in March to keep everyone together. If we’re all currently going our separate ways, then it’s up to me to find the path among ours we can all walk without jeopardizing our futures. I’m not going to be scared to stray from my path anymore, not when it keeps everyone I care about together. I’ve decided that this is what’s most important to me. Yes, I can do this. I’ll be the person who writes my own fairy tale. And to do that, there’s only one clear solution. _Her path clear, Mio released her coin into the fountain. _I wish to feed Ton-chan tomorrow._

Tsumugi watched the silver coin spin in the air, mesmerized, while Ritsu was already drawing several of the gardeners into a chase with some carefully prepared goading. “Do you think it’ll come true?” Tsumugi asked with a child’s wonder as the ripples reached out for the two of them.

The answer was decided before Mio had to think about it. “Yes,” Mio answered confidently, facing her friend. “By the way, what was the name of the university you were planning on attending?”


	11. Just count this as a vote for Mio's idea

**November 11th, Before School**

Aging wood collided with calloused fingers, quiet drumbeats only one person could hear the sole defense the drummer had against the demon of boredom. There was no park to run around this time, and people watching had always been one of Mio’s hobbies, not hers. The drummer quadruple-checked her silent phone, sighing dramatically if only to make herself feel a bit better about her situation. _7, no, 9 minutes off. For a girl who likes to be punctual, you’re taking your sweet time getting here, Nakano. That’s the second time in a week you’ve got me waiting. Well, at least it’s warm in here._

It was difficult enough for Ritsu to have to stand around awkwardly in the second year’s hall waiting for her kouhai to show up without said kouhai also being much later than normal. According to data Tsumugi had previously collected under circumstances that could kindly be considered as dubious, Azusa rarely showed up to school less than thirty minutes early. That in mind, she was now running very late. The looks Ritsu was receiving from the second years milling about only facilitated the rise in her agitation as seconds ticked by at the speed of hours. _It’s not even strange for seniors to be around here before school, and they’re looking at me like I’m a unicorn. Actually, that could be pretty cool. Flying around, shooting at people with horn lasers, granting wishes, shooting at Mio with horn lasers…_

Ritsu’s unicorn daydreams were interrupted as she realized that one of the girls travelling down the hallway had paused to stare right in front of her. Though her ribbon color identified her as a first year, nothing about the short girl herself told Ritsu that she should know this person. Glancing around, Ritsu noticed a gaggle of other first years staring at the two of them from one end of the hallway. “Um… you’re Ritsu-senpai, right?” came the girl’s meek voice.

Returning her gaze to her one-person audience, Ritsu frowned. The fact that this girl knew her and she didn’t know this girl bothered her. “Sorry, do I know you?” she asked, hoping this wasn’t someone she owed money somehow.

Blushing, the young dark-haired student shook her head. “No, but I’m a big fan of your band! Watching you all play is so inspiring!” She fumbled around in her bag for a moment before withdrawing a pen and open notebook with several signatures on it already, shoving the objects towards the drummer clumsily. “Can I have your autograph please thank you?!”

Gradually, the situation became clear to Ritsu, causing her to break out in a playful grin. Since Ho-kago Tea Time had most, or arguably all of its fanbase centered in Sakuragaoka High School, it was rare for anyone in the band to encounter someone who only knew them through seeing their performances. She took up the pen and paper eagerly, noting signatures from Azusa, Yui and Tsumugi already covering the open sheet. Taking extra care to sign her name a few sizes larger than the other three signatures on the paper, she returned it, patting the now ecstatic girl on the shoulder. “There you go, kid. If you’re looking for Mio’s signature, ask her fan club. They know the best places to corner- I mean find her. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

Stars were alit in the student’s eyes, and she bowed overenthusiastically, nearly headbutting Ritsu in the process. “Thank you so much! I can’t wait for your next performance!” She bolted off, rushing towards the group of girls Ritsu had noticed while yelling about how visiting Azusa’s classroom every day was paying off.

A strange feeling of melancholy overcame Ritsu as she waved the cute girl off. “Next performance, huh?” she whispered to the air, the fresh excitement of meeting a real fan gone.

_There might not be another performance anytime soon, kid, but I’ll look forward to it too. No point in thinking too hard about it. _With that issue solved, Ritsu was able to get back to being bored, her worry tossed aside as she returned to alternating between checking her phone and the slowly filling hallway for her absent kouhai.

Boring as Mio and Tsumugi’s plan was, Ritsu couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Tsumugi was in charge of distracting Yui while Ritsu and Mio split up, with Ritsu covering Azusa’s homeroom while Mio waited in the clubroom. Whichever place Azusa chose to visit first when she got to school, one of them would be waiting to collect her and bring her to the other for their… apology? The intent of their conversation wasn’t entirely clear to Ritsu, outside of the end goal being everyone making up again. She was fairly certain she and Mio were on neutral terms at worst with Azusa, and that her idea of apologizing was just a formality to get Azusa to listen to them. Ritsu smiled to herself, the speed of her drumbeat increasing. _This is ridiculous. I mean sure, Nakano has been acting a bit off, but she won’t go out of her way to avoid us. We should have just texted her. It’d be bad if she really started avoiding us after that I guess, but at least then I wouldn’t be stuck playing truant officer. When I said let’s apologize directly again, I didn’t think I’d end up on a stakeout. She already knows we’re sorry, damn it. _“I’m gonna smack Nakano, then Mio, and maybe Mugi if there’s time for putting me through this,” she lied quietly to herself, letting the back of her head collide gently with the window. The morning light warmed her exposed forehead while the glass itself chilled the top of her head, creating a rather strange yet not unpleasant feeling in the drummer that calmed her down.

Violent thoughts aside, Ritsu wasn’t entirely opposed to justifying her own apology a little. She hadn’t meant to hurt Azusa’s feelings when she described how Yui saw her kouhai, but it was the girl’s own fault if she wouldn’t face up to her own emotions, and Ritsu would have told her as much three days ago if Mio hadn’t been standing right there. Though she wanted to be candid, the good of their band came before Ritsu’s personal vendettas on matters of the heart. As she continued to lean against the window opposite Azusa’s class 2-1, she found a way to amuse herself by giving passerby who were curious about her disheveled uniform or light blue ribbon dark stares until they scampered off. It wasn’t as much fun as scaring Mio, but it made the minute hand move. Her starved interest was eventually piqued by another clique of girls that had been standing just inside of Azusa’s classroom since before Ritsu had arrived. Her interaction with the freshman had evidently caught their attention. “You saw her give the autograph, didn’t you? She’s got to be their drummer, so she has to be waiting for Azusa-chan. Does that mean it’s true?”

Hearing her target’s name, Ritsu’s ears perked up. She turned her head towards the group of three juniors, causing all of them to avert their shifty gazes from her. It was tempting to hold her stare until one of them dared to look up again, but Ritsu was suddenly more interested in eavesdropping than scaring at the moment. Most of her rumor experience involved telling off overzealous Mio fan club members asking about whether she was dating Mio or not, which was a pain in and of itself without Mio having a panic attack every time it happened with her nearby. That in mind, any rumor regarding someone else in their band was enough to warrant investigation by Ritsu’s standards. The very second Ritsu looked away, the conversation she had extinguished was reignited with a passion.

“Baka! Not so loud!”

“Sorry, sorry. But it’s suspicious, right? Azusa-chan’s been acting weird for weeks, and now the rest of her band is hanging around outside her homeroom, and Yui-senpai isn’t.”

“You’re just being paranoid.”

“Oh yeah? Why are Ui-chan and Azusa-chan trying so hard to cover things up? If Azusa-chan isn’t sleeping with Yui-senpai, there’s no reason to care, right?”

“Shut up! She’ll hear you!”

Ritsu’s head snapped back to the conversation nearby, all subtlety and curiosity being thrown out the window behind her. The words that had just met her ears were so outlandish that her mind had immediately kicked into fight or flight mode, favoring the former. One foot stomped on the wooden floor towards the trio, the sound alone reverberating enough to startle all the girls in the hall nearby. Three pairs of eyes met her commanding glare with evident trepidation. _Good. I don’t care what the context is, you can’t talk like that about my band and expect me to sit on my ass. _

Just as death in the form of Ritsu began stalking towards her prey, a merciful hand stayed the drummer’s advance, firmly locking her in position with its grip on her shoulder. Spinning around violently, Ritsu was prepared to tell off the person who had dared to stop her, only for her anger to fizzle out as she took in the sight of Yui frowning with concern in front of her. _No, wait. Red ribbon. Hair is tied up. Frizzy haired Jun girl nearby. This is Ui-chan. _Ritsu blinked, sparing the lives of the girls she had been stalking towards. “I’ll take care of it, Ritsu-senpai,” Ui offered kindly, though her eyes were dangerously empty.

A shiver passed through Ritsu’s spine as she watched Ui practically skip over to the group of three girls, all of whom were observing the exchange nervously. Their faces collectively paled when they saw their classmate coming towards them with an easy smile. Though Ritsu was unable to hear what Ui was saying, the rapid nods from all three of them and the speed at which they scampered away from the conversation was more than convincing enough for Ritsu that Ui had the situation well in hand. _Those brats mentioned that Ui was trying to suppress this rumor too. Guess they weren’t kidding. _She massaged her shoulder, the feel of Ui’s death grip that had held her back still lingering. Somewhat anxiously, Ritsu reminded herself never to mess with Yui while Ui was nearby, lest she end up breaking a bone.

Jun clicked her tongue in disappointment from where she stood next to the drummer. “I’m never going to make any new friends between her and Azusa-chan getting on everyone’s backs about this. At this point, more pressure’s just going to make the rumors worse. Did you need something, Ritsu-senpai?”

Tearing her gaze away from Ui, Ritsu took in the hair disaster of a girl in front of her. She vaguely remembered seeing her at the marathon from hell with Azusa and Ui a while back, and Azusa had certainly mentioned a bassist from the Jazz Club in passing, but that was where Ritsu’s data on the human in front of her ended. “You know something about that?” Ritsu asked, jerking her thumb towards the fleeing girls.

“More than you do,” Jun scoffed, turning her nose up at the drummer.

Indignation overcame Ritsu once more. “Oi,” she uttered warningly. “Don’t talk to your senpais like that. Why the hell are people spreading rumors about our guitarists?”

Jun smirked infuriatingly. “Maybe if you gave more of a shit about your band, you’d know the answer to that, huh?” she challenged. “From what I hear, everything’s fine and dandy in Ritsu-land, isn’t it?”

That was it. Ritsu didn’t remember if she was supposed to be friends with this girl, but she could figure it out after she was done knocking some respect into her. Before Ritsu could do something she’d probably regret, Ui’s unbreakable hand reappeared on her shoulder. “Don’t antagonize her, Jun-chan,” the younger sister’s reasonable voice rang out. “It’s not her fault that rumor started, is it?”

It was obvious that Jun was looking for an excuse to keep arguing, but nothing was coming to her. “No, but-”

“Great!” Ui interrupted. “Then there’s no need for us to argue amongst ourselves. Ritsu-senpai, did you need something? It’s unusual for you to be here this early.”

Ritsu raised an eyebrow. She badly wanted to lay into the frizzy haired punk who was currently giving her the stink eye, but the idea of starting a fight was less appealing with every second Ritsu had to think about it. “I’m looking for Nakano. Have you two seen her?” the drummer asked instead, leaning back against the window to force her body to calm down.

Ui and Jun exchanged a look. A question was flashed between the two of them, but that was all Ritsu could understand. Jun shook her head while Ui nodded, and a silent argument that was incredibly droll for Ritsu to observe ensued. Ui apparently won, because when they turned back, she was the only one smiling. “She went to the music room to drop off her guitar,” Ui explained, her voice abnormally even. “She’ll probably be there until class starts.” Jun grumbled under her breath about something Ritsu couldn’t hear, but Ui elbowed her until the bassist was nodding in agreement.

Though their behavior was odd, Ritsu didn’t question the two juniors. She had enough problems keeping up with her own friends, and she wasn’t about to try to do the same with Azusa’s. Knowing that she now only needed to wait on a text from Mio to confirm that Azusa was ready to talk, Ritsu decided she had enough time to get some answers for herself. “Okay then, care to tell me what the hell could possibly make those girls think our guitarists are doing the deed together?”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ui went beet red at Ritsu’s crass implication, and she hid her face in another private glance with Jun. Ritsu rolled her eyes. Having another issue to deal with was irritating enough without being excluded from conversation about it. “It’s not our place to say,” Ui eventually responded, once her color was restored. “But I’m taking care of it, don’t worry. You can ask Azusa-chan about it if you want. Oh, and don’t let Onee-chan find out!” The last sentence nearly brought Ui’s face right back to where it started.

Unfortunately for Ui and Jun, the non-answer had pushed through the shallow limits of Ritsu’s tact. She crossed her arms and stood up straight in an attempt to exert some of her authority over the conversation. “You’re not going to keep that from Yui if you’re letting kids talk about it in the halls like that.”

“They were talking about it because they saw you skulking around like a drug dealer,” Jun retorted. “Don’t complain about things that are your fault.”

Ritsu jabbed a finger towards the indignant bassist. “Oi, what’s your problem with me, kid? I’m just looking out for my friends. Do I owe you money or something? Because I swear, Mio will pay it back for me.”

Jun took an aggressive step forwards, but Ritsu noted the trembling in her hands, the uncertainty in her footing. Though she wasn’t the fighter people assumed she was by her appearance and language, Ritsu was no stranger to confrontation, especially being friends with someone who drew as much unwanted attention to themselves as Mio. _Amateur. She’s not used to squaring up with someone who will yell back at her. I’ll need to make sure Nakano grows a spine before I leave or this girl never will._

Ui shook her head at Jun, but Jun shrugged her off, finding courage in her head that her body couldn’t display. “My problem with you, Ritsu-senpai, is that you’re a hypocrite.”

The accusation caught both Ritsu and Ui off guard. “Wait, what? What are we talking about here?” Ritsu asked dumbly.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jun accused, shaking her head condescendingly. “I’ve had to deal with a sad sack of potatoes for a friend for weeks because you and the others can’t get your act together. On top of that, you’re putting ideas in her head about romance when you can’t even-”

“Jun-chan, enough!” Ui hissed urgently, but Ritsu held up a hand to stop the younger Hirasawa from fighting her battle for her.

It was obvious where Jun had been going with her train of thought, but Ritsu wasn’t going to tell Jun that. Even if she had finished her accusation, it wouldn’t have affected the automatic response that was already kicking in for the drummer too much. When Ritsu spoke once more, her tone was low and controlled, tempered by experience. “If you’re trying to rile me up by talking about the crap the Mio fan club throws around on a weekly basis for kicks, it’s not going to work. I get it, you’re mad at us because we’re the reason Nakano has been down lately. However, if you go lashing out at everyone over your problem, it’ll just make things worse. We’re on the same team here, got it? Yeah, Mio and I said some out of line things to Nakano, so we apologized. Obviously, that wasn’t enough to magically fix everything, so we’re trying again today. Don’t go around assuming we don’t give a shit just because of what you think the truth is. We care about our kouhai just as much as you do.”

Having failed to get the reaction she was looking for, Jun appeared to be a bit frazzled. Ritsu smirked, satisfied that her point was taking root and that she had gotten so good at handling her own response to the same damn tease after nearly three years. Seeing this, Jun found it in herself to frown. “Just take care of my friend, or there’s going to be hell to pay, got it?” she demanded.

“Ditto to you, kid,” Ritsu responded evenly, before sighing to herself. _Now even Nakano’s friends are spreading the Mio fan club rumors. Who’s the hypocrite, Jun? I might need to talk to the others about this, maybe find a way to clear the air for good. With this new thing, I can do it without making it about Mio and me, too. That’s one pain I won’t ever miss. Speaking of pains…_

Ui, who had remained quiet since Ritsu had stopped her, stared attentively as Ritsu faced her once more. “By the way, how’s Yui’s arm? What’d the doctor say?”

The pensive look on Ui’s face brightened. “She hasn’t broken anything, thankfully. The doctor said it’ll heal by the end of the week as long as she allows it to rest. I’m really glad we got it checked out anyways.”

Ritsu smiled, grateful to hear some good news this morning. “Nice. It’s hard to be a captain without a private.” Though her phone was still silent, standing around with a girl who may or may not still be fuming with her wasn’t Ritsu’s idea of a fun time. “Well, I guess I’ll head to the music room. You two be good to Nakano, yeah?”

Jun gave Ritsu a glare, but she didn’t say anything. The drummer made a mental note to ask Azusa where her friend’s idea of hospitality had come from. “Hold on, Ritsu-senpai. I have a question,” Ui interrupted as Ritsu made to leave.

Pausing in her stride towards the third-year hallway, Ritsu gave her friend’s sister a curious look. “Shoot.”

Ui twiddled her thumbs nervously, all authority from when Ritsu had first seen her today completely absent. “About the party on Sunday… I was wondering… about Tsumugi-senpai…Has she…” Ui paused, uncertain.

Even Jun was staring at Ui curiously as Ritsu tried and failed to identify where this question was going. “I kind of need to go talk to Nakano,” Ritsu explained, suddenly feeling awkward again as she waited for Ui to release her.

Whatever trance Ui had put herself in was broken by Ritsu’s voice. “Um, never mind! Just be careful, okay?”

The warning made little sense to Ritsu, but she was just glad to be able to leave. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you two around. Good luck rumor hunting.”

Ritsu strode off before anything else could confuse her. As she made it to the stairs, her phone finally buzzed. Picking it up, Ritsu saw a picture of Tsumugi and Yui making some sort of strange anime pose in the classroom, with a couple of students laughing at them in the background. Grinning, the drummer shoved her phone back into her pocket. _I guess the distraction side of things is going well. But Mio hasn’t texted yet. Did Nakano actually go to the clubroom like they said she did? What the hell is Mio doing in there? _

Unwilling to wait, Ritsu decided to see for herself. She took the stairs two at a time until she found herself at the door to the clubroom. Throwing the door open callously, Ritsu was met with the sight of Mio tuning her bass from the music room’s couch. The disturbance caused her to jump in her seat, nearly losing her instrument in the process. “What?! What’s happening?” Mio yelped frantically.

Puzzled, Ritsu tilted her head, closing the door behind her. “Nothing? Where’s the kid?”

Calming down, Mio reciprocated Ritsu’s action. “I don’t know. You’re the first person to come here this morning. Is Azusa-chan not with you?”

While it was true that Ritsu didn’t have the puzzle-solving skills of some of her friends, even she could piece together what was happening. “Those punks… they tricked me!” As suddenly as she entered, Ritsu was on her way out again, ready to wring the necks of Azusa’s friends for lying to her.

“Wait, Ritsu!” Mio insisted fruitlessly. “What’s going on?”

“Nakano’s using her friends to hide from us is going on!” Ritsu called over her shoulder, already throwing the poor door open again.

Ritsu’s storming out of the room was cut short by the twin tailed girl standing in the entrance. Unprepared for the target of her aggression to suddenly appear in front of her, Ritsu found herself lost for words for once. Azusa was shifting her grip on her guitar bag nervously, a pensive look on her face as she took in the sight of the flabbergasted drummer and the befuddled bassist. “Do you two have a minute?” Azusa asked. “I’d like to speak with you both.”

Mio recovered from the instantaneous appearance before her friend. “Well, that’s convenient. We wanted to speak with you as well.” She set her bass down on the couch and rose from her seat to gesture towards the table.

Azusa blushed uncharacteristically. “Really? I guess my preparation was unnecessary then.”

The meaning behind Azusa’s words was lost on Mio, but not Ritsu. “So let me get this straight, you told your friends to tell me that you were going to the clubroom when you weren’t, and now you’re here anyways? How does that make sense?”

Sighing, the junior shook her head, as if Ritsu had just failed to answer a basic math problem. “It’s simple. I told them to direct you or Mio-senpai towards the clubroom and Yui-senpai or Mugi-senpai anywhere else if they ran into one of you. I went to the clubroom to wait, but Mio-senpai was already there. I didn’t want to talk to her alone, so I waited for you to show up, hoping you would be around soon because Mio-senpai was here. It was evidently a safe hunch, because here you are.”

Both seniors stared at their junior. Azusa tilted her head. “What?” she asked, folding her arms indignantly. “I’d say it’s an impressive plan for how short notice it was.”

Neither girl had the heart to explain that Azusa’s complicated plan that she was so proud of had more holes than the plot of a bad action movie. Ritsu eventually shrugged to break the line of tension before it could finish forming. “I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened. What matters is that we’re all here. Happy birthday, by the way. Come inside, grandmaster tactician, make yourself at home.”

Mio and Azusa rolled their eyes together as Ritsu made a big show of letting Azusa walk past her into the clubroom. The three of them quickly sat in their traditional seats at the table. Azusa noticed that Ton had been fed and nodded to herself before sitting. Ritsu also took note of this, but didn’t feel the need to say anything about it, instead focusing on shoving down the instinct telling her that she should be receiving tea and snacks right about now. Familiar chairs squeaked against the hardwood floor as everyone settled in, arms resting on desks as morning light illuminated the room in a comfortable pale glow, a blessing from nature normally offset by the harsh winds gusting outside. Though the room felt a bit empty without two of its regular occupants, Ritsu could almost trick her mind into believing that she had made it through the school day already. Her dream went on much longer than she thought it would as nobody started their destined conversation. Blinking, Ritsu looked between her dark-haired bandmates. For all of her confidence in claiming that she had something to talk about, Azusa had fallen shockingly quiet, cat-like eyes switching between Mio, Ritsu and the floor in rapid succession. Mio was also flitting her gaze between her bandmates, and the look she gave Ritsu when they locked eyes for an instant was a familiar one, one of expectation. _You want me to start, huh? Fine. Guess I should have seen that coming. Time to be charming. _

“Mio and I both felt the need to address some things that have been said over the past few days,” Ritsu boldly declared, leaning forward assertively in her chair.

The grandstanding did nothing for Azusa, who frowned. “You two don’t need to apologize again. I’m not mad at either of you. Actually, I wanted to apologize to both of you for my behavior.” Azusa subconsciously rubbed the back of her neck in the same way Yui did when she got caught doing something wrong. “I’m sorry, really. The last thing I want is to stir up trouble with everyone, and it feels like that’s all I’ve done this week. I’d like to try and start things fresh with everyone before the party, if that’s okay with you all.”

Ritsu rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming one of the most specific and realistic dreams she had ever had. “Huh. That was easy. Mio had a whole speech prepared to convince you to do exactly that.” She leaned back in her chair and put her arms behind her head in victory.

“How did you- I mean, no I didn’t, baka!” Mio unconvincingly argued, glowering at her childhood friend. “Besides, were you even listening to her? Azusa-chan, you haven’t caused any more trouble than we have since the festival. If you ask me, we’d all be better off if we acknowledged that and focused on moving forwards together. Of course, that would involve you making up with Yui-chan.”

Before Azusa could react, Ritsu pointed a finger at the guitarist to keep her attention from Mio’s statement. “I withhold the right to make fun of and/or play a prank on you in retaliation for anything you’ve done in the past week,” the drummer claimed importantly, not willing to throw away her main source of entertainment for Sunday.

“And I withhold the right to do this,” Mio retorted, smacking Ritsu on the head swiftly.

Suppressing a small giggle, Azusa did her best to remain serious. “I believe we all agree then. That’s… good to know.” The guitarist visibly relaxed in her seat, as if she had expected the conversation to run in a very different direction.

“Hold on,” Mio cautioned. “There’s still the main point we wanted to make. Mugi-chan, Ritsu and I want to know what’s going on with you and Yui-chan, and if we can help you do something about it. If you don’t want to talk to us, that’s fine, but we want you to know we’re here to help.”

Ritsu held back the urge to whistle appreciatively at Mio’s assertive control of the conversation. _She really does shine the brightest when she’s forced to handle things herself. Or maybe she’s just grown up over the past decade or so. I guess it’s probably both. Well, at least I haven’t changed. One of us has to remember why we make a good team. _Shoving the old thought aside, Ritsu grinned cheekily at Azusa. “Yeah, we’ve got your back no matter what. Don’t worry about anything we said a few days ago, alright? We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Azusa nodded gratefully. “I really don’t deserve senpais like you two…” she muttered, before straightening up in her seat. “But that’s not important. I told myself I wasn’t going to keep turning away from this problem. I want to patch things up with Yui-senpai too. With all of you. I’ve been running around hurting my friends because I don’t want to face reality, so I’m going to stop. That’s all there is to it.”

The candid tone wasn’t what Ritsu was expecting, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. _I wonder if Nakano is growing up a little too because of this whole future fiasco. That’s a happy way of looking at it. _

“You live in a small world,” Mio responded. “Like I said, we’ve all made some mistakes due to the circumstances over the past week.”

“Not me,” Ritsu lied, leaning back in her chair. “I’m perfect.” As if to emphasize the point, a beam of sunlight broke through the clouds outside to shine directly on Ritsu, giving her an angelic glow.

Two frowns were levelled squarely on the brunette. “I take back my apology,” Azusa stated bluntly.

Somehow, the drummer managed to shrug without losing her precarious balance. “Keep it. It’s bad luck to give things away on your birthday anyways. Besides, let’s be honest, what have you done, Mio? And don’t just say the thing about confronting Nakano over Yui, we’ve been there, done that.”

While Ritsu waited patiently for the reprimand, smack, or both from Mio, she instead got a disquieting cold shoulder. Of all things, the question had drawn Mio’s attention towards Ton. The other two girls followed her gaze curiously. “I might have been the one to hide Ton-chan’s food back on Tuesday,” Mio admitted guiltily, the admission hurting her with every word she committed to saying.

The revelation was about as interesting to Ritsu as Mio claiming she had remembered how to get dressed this morning, but Azusa was beside herself. “You?!” she cried incredulously. “Mio-senpai, how could you? I had to stop Yui-senpai from giving Ton-chan cake because of that!”

Watching her kouhai revert back to square one as she berated Mio of all people was both comforting and surreal to Ritsu at the same time. Comforting to see the Azusa she knew was very much still interested in fulfilling her role as the band’s voice of reason and order besides Mio, and surreal to have the chance to watch Mio getting berated instead of being the one taking jabs at her herself. _Her form’s so-so, but she’s got the makings of a great club president, _Ritsu mused to herself as she observed Azusa explaining in painstaking detail how difficult it was to stop Yui from using cake to solve her problems.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Mio repeated over and over again. “I just wanted to feed Ton-chan, but I was too embarrassed to ask, so I thought if I hid his food, I could find it and do it without anyone asking questions!”

Ritsu rolled her eyes at Mio’s annoyingly familiar reasoning. “That’s what you decided to write on that card, isn’t it?” she guessed, taking Mio’s paling face as confirmation. “Figures. And why did this need to be a secret again?”

“I…well… what about yours then, baka?” Mio nearly shouted, desperately attempting to redirect the conversation. “I refuse to believe you wrote down something serious on your card!”

Shrugging, Ritsu retrieved the joy buzzer she had stolen back from Sawako’s desk and held it up for Mio to see. “I wrote that I’d shock Sawa-chan if she went through with her dumb plan. Her fault for not believing me.”

Azusa had a disappointed expression on her face, her anger towards Mio redirected into scorn for Ritsu actions. “That’s… really petty. Like, extremely petty, Ritsu-senpai,” she reprimanded. “I thought you were at least mature enough to avoid threatening violence to solve your issues.”

The drummer scoffed, allowing her chair to crash back to the ground. “Oh, calm down, Nakano. It doesn’t hurt, I’m not a sadist.” To prove her point, she pressed the button herself, sending an unpleasant yet painless sensation throughout her body. “And unlike the rest of you, I’m still trying to enjoy myself. Don’t think I didn’t catch you laughing when it happened, Mio.”

Caught red-handed, Mio unsuccessfully attempted to fend off Azusa’s accusatory glare when it shifted to her. “Okay, fine, it was a bit funny in the moment,” she admitted guiltily. “But it was still a dirty trick to pull, even if you feel it was justified. I don’t understand why you enjoy scaring people so much.” Ritsu held herself back from saying it was funny in lieu of her comment on sadism.

Still eyeing the evil toy suspiciously, Azusa sighed. “Just don’t do it again, okay? I’d hate for you to not graduate because of a prank.” Though Azusa was acting aloof, Ritsu beamed at her kouhai, having learned that this was the closest that the younger girl would come to openly forgiving her for a prank she didn’t approve of, which was all of them.

“Wait, why are we talking about this?” Mio interrupted. “We can talk about Ritsu’s numerous shortcomings later. The bell won’t wait forever. Azusa-chan, are you willing to sit down with us and Yui-chan to sort things out between everyone after school today?” The bassist ignored Ritsu’s indignant reply.

Recovering her serious demeanor, Azusa nodded determinedly. “Yes. I want to bring things back to normal before we deal with the future.”

“Then are you going to address the romance issue?” Ritsu followed up bluntly, giving Mio a serious look to indicate that she wasn’t joking around.

Azusa made an adorable cat noise as she lost the composure she had just regained, which told Ritsu more than whatever Azusa actually wanted to say. Mio rose from her seat, glaring daggers at Ritsu. The drummer met her gaze evenly. _Trust me, _she implored silently.

Several long seconds later, Mio sat down once more, crossing her arms and legs pensively. “You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to,” the bassist offered as Ritsu raised an eyebrow at Mio’s disagreement with her decision. “We agreed that we’re just trying to get things back to normal.”

“Normal isn’t coming back until she has an answer to that question,” Ritsu retorted, nodding at the reddening of Azusa’s cheeks. “Look at her. Now that the idea’s in your head, you feel like you need a resolution too, right? I mean, yeah it might be our fault, but that doesn’t change the fact that the question’s in your head now. Knowing you, you won’t be satisfied without an answer.”

Azusa looked down, gritting her teeth. “That’s not the real issue here.”

_Obviously. What do you think I’m trying to get out of you? _

“We’re not judging you, Azusa, but if what’s going on between you and Yui is affecting our band, we need to address it. Tell us what the issue is, then, so we can help you already.” Years of dealing with Mio had tempered Ritsu’s ability to get to the heart of a matter, and Azusa could be treated as a smaller version of Mio when it came to hiding her own problems.

The kouhai’s head remained low. “I’ve been so immature. Yui-senpai got hurt because of me. It’s my fault her arm was injured,” she admitted, her voice wavering a bit.

Ritsu heard a small gasp from Mio as her suspicion was confirmed. _There’s the real problem. Good, I was worried we’d actually have to deal with a confession in our clubroom today. As long as she resolves this, we should be in the clear, and I won’t have to say anything. _“So, you made a mistake,” Ritsu claimed, standing up and stepping towards the kouhai from her chair. “Then fix it, like you said you wanted to. If you’re really trying to get things back to normal, stop making us and Yui guess what’s on your mind and get to the point.”

“But how am I supposed to approach her?” Azusa fired back. “She’s been avoiding me too, you know. I want to apologize to her, for the things I said, but I don’t know how. I don’t feel like I know enough to act yet.”

“Honestly, you’re just like Mio, thinking you have to do everything yourself,” Ritsu retorted, earning herself two more glares. “We’re your solution. You belong with us, and everyone knows that. If you just be honest with Yui after school today, she’ll understand. We’ll help you get through it. Can you at least try for us?”

For a moment, Ritsu worried that Azusa would turn against their plan altogether, but after some hesitation, the guitarist nodded. “I suppose I can,” she decided, her resolve evident in her tone.

With the biggest hurdle leapt over, Ritsu found herself pumping her fist into the air in excitement. “That’s what I like to hear! We’ll settle this after school then.”

Mio found her voice once more. “Thank you, Azusa-chan. I’m looking forward to this afternoon.”

Though Azusa didn’t catch it, Ritsu noted the slight edge in Mio’s tone. _Mio didn’t think Nakano had it in her to hurt Yui, even on accident, huh? I guess it’s the same with me and the joy buzzer. She really doesn’t believe any of us have the ability to hurt other people. And yet I’m somehow on the receiving end of her fists all the time. I need to talk to her before our big meeting. _

Azusa looked down once more and didn’t say anything, but she appeared to at least be content. Ritsu allowed herself to fall back into her seat, suddenly feeling drained. Resolving problems early in the morning always improved the rest of her day, even if it wore her out. This was before the conversation preceding this one returned to her mind, and Ritsu remembered why she was supposed to be angry. “Oh yeah, what the hell is up with the kids in your class?” Ritsu asked, interrupting the comfortable silence that was starting to build between the three of them.

Not following Ritsu’s question, Azusa looked up at her senpai uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean, Ritsu-senpai?”

“Is something wrong with the juniors?” Mio seconded, her own interest captured.

Ritsu shook her head solemnly. “Not physically, at least. That Jun girl was downright rude to me for no reason at all. I don’t know what you’ve been telling her, but she treated me like I was the source of all evil for her. She’s lucky Ui was around to keep things from getting ugly.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just looking for a reason to argue with someone?” Mio interrogated dubiously.

“Those sound like fighting words,” Ritsu snarked back, causing the bassist to huff and cross her arms.

Taking in what Ritsu had said, Azusa placed a hand thoughtfully on her chin. “That’s a bit strange. I’ll have a talk with Jun-chan. I’m sorry if she offended you, but she has a habit of being a bit too blunt, like you.”

The drummer winced. “I think you might need some help with that too.” Realizing that Azusa ignored or didn’t understand her point, Ritsu moved on. “And in any case, it’s not just her. I overheard some girls saying some wild things about you and Yui.”

“Seriously, again?!” Azusa exclaimed, standing bolt upright in her seat. “I thought I took care of that already. Excuse me, senpais, I need to be somewhere else right now.”

In a fluid motion, Ritsu was out of her seat and between Azusa and the door, her natural speed far exceeding her juniors. Mio had trouble just following the two of them with how fast both girls had moved. “Hold on there, kiddo. Ui took care of it for you. I still need answers as to why people are talking about you and Yui like this. Rumors from the Mio fan club about Mio’s panties are one thing, but this is something else. What’s going on?”

Somewhere on the other side of the room, Ritsu imagined Mio had started huddling in a corner while mumbling about blue and white striped undergarments, though Azusa continued to absorb most of her attention. “It’s really not a big deal, just another mistake I made,” Azusa insisted, looking in vain for a way around the most athletic girl in their group. “I said something stupid and it started the rumor. Look, as long as Yui-senpai doesn’t hear anything about it, it doesn’t matter, so please let me make sure my class understands that.”

The strained politeness in Azusa’s tone underlined an urgency that Ritsu frankly found frustrating. “Azusa, you’re not going to kill a rumor by force. I’ve tried, it doesn’t work. In fact, it usually makes things worse. You should just warn Yui beforehand, or get Ui to do it. We can tell her together after school if you want, but trying to cover this up is just going to make it worse.”

Azusa shook her head in denial. “Ritsu-senpai, I can handle this. You can help me make up with Yui-senpai later, but right now, let me handle this my way, okay?”

It was obvious that Azusa wasn’t going to relent. The determined look in her eyes was as familiar as the person Ritsu saw in the mirror every morning. _Damn. Guess experience will have to be the teacher that this senpai can’t be. _“Then good luck to you, young Nakano,” Ritsu reluctantly stated, moving out of the way.

Giving her senpai a shockingly genuine bow of gratitude, Azusa practically bolted out the door. “Thanks, I’ll see you both after school!” Azusa’s voice faded out from earshot as she retreated back into the school.

With their kouhai gone, the clubroom suddenly felt much smaller. Ritsu turned back to face her childhood friend, who was sliding back into her seat in an attempt to hide the fact that she had left it in the first place. When she realized Ritsu was staring, Mio’s grey eyes zeroed in on to the drummer with terrifying speed and precision. “Care to explain what happened with you this morning?” Mio asked, her calm tone reminding Ritsu just how angry the dangerous queen potentially could become.

As fast as she could, Ritsu spat out the truth. “I overheard some girls talking about how Yui was apparently sleeping with Nakano. Don’t give me that look, I’m serious! This had to come out at some point, and better now than this afternoon. I wasn’t making things up. The kids in her class are talking about her and Yui like they’re screwing.”

Mio’s face contorted in disbelief. “No, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered, all traces of hostility gone.

Ritsu shook her head, making her way over to the couch and sitting on it on her knees, making sure not to disturb Mio’s bass in the process. “Wish I was. But apparently Nakano and Ui have a lid on most of their talking, for whatever good it’s doing. That being said, the question of why is more important. Azusa’s friends told me to ask her, and you saw how that went. This is different from the rumors your fan club likes to spread about you and other people.”

“Don’t remind me,” Mio groaned. “I guess we’ll have to get the truth out of her this afternoon, since it’s clearly one of the things bothering her. It’ll probably come up if we end up addressing Yui-chan’s feelings anyways.”

“About that,” Ritsu started, pausing to make sure she had Mio’s undivided attention before she continued. “I don’t think there’s much else we need to do, based on what I’m hearing from Nakano. Whatever they decide to talk about should be up to them. The only reason I brought it up now is because I agree that Yui doesn’t need to hear about this from someone other than Nakano. If they make up, rumor discussion or not, I say mission accomplished. I thought we both agreed that doing something drastic was a bad idea for once.”

For a long minute, Mio didn’t say anything. She appeared to be mulling over the prospect in her head, overthinking things down to the last detail. It was impressive when it wasn’t inconvenient. “Alright, I’ll leave it to them,” Mio decided. “But we still should be there to help them along, all three of us.”

“Of course,” Ritsu responded. “That was never in question. She can think of this as her birthday present from us.”

Mio glowered at the drummer from her chair. “You better have bought her an actual present for Sunday,” the bassist warned. “I still haven’t forgotten the year you told me your present was ‘your presence’.”

Ritsu allowed herself to sink down so that her head rested against the top of the couch, partially hiding the deadpan expression that appeared on her face at Mio’s response. “Come on, that was years ago! How many times have you made me apologize for that? Mou, it’s unhealthy to hold grudges for that long.”

“Says the one who waited a week to shock our teacher for giving us extra work for our benefit,” Mio countered.

Déjà vu washed over Ritsu. “Touché,” she muttered.

The lull in conversation that followed bled into silence. There was still a bit of time left before classes started, but neither girl was inclined to their homeroom before they had to. This sort of thing happened from time to time, usually when Ritsu ran out of things to say. It was clear to Ritsu at least that Mio found the random strikes of calm between their normally tumultuous back and forth relaxing, and the drummer agreed, though she’d never be caught admitting it. Although they weren’t doing anything, being alone with Mio like this inspired a sort of peace within Ritsu, giving her the opportunity to collect her thoughts. _That could have gone worse. The whole rumor thing is a pain, but as long as Yui and Nakano make up, it shouldn’t matter. We can deal with the rest later. _Mio caught Ritsu’s wandering eyes, the unique seriousness in her expression capturing Ritsu’s attention. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask why you came to the clubroom yesterday,” Mio answered Ritsu’s unasked question.

“To feed Ton-chan,” Ritsu answered immediately, with complete sincerity. “I wrote it on my card, after all, and I had to protect the sacred words I wrote down until the day I died because I love Ton-chan unconditionally.”

Mio blushed equal parts embarrassment and rage. “Baka! It’s embarrassing enough without you bringing it up again!”

Unable to maintain the serious expression on her face, Ritsu broke out into a smirk. “Don’t worry, if I held on to every dumb thing you did since we’ve known each other, I’d need to find a bigger brain. If you must know, I was checking up on you to make sure you were alright.”

Ritsu’s response wasn’t what Mio had been expecting, to the point that she ignored the drummer’s jab. “Huh? Why?”

“Do I need a reason to make sure my friend is feeling okay?” Ritsu pointed out, Mio’s confusion begetting confusion on her side as well. “You seemed upset about something after school yesterday, so I went to check on you to make sure you weren’t moping by yourself.”

It baffled Ritsu how she was managing to surprise Mio so much with her explanation. _Does she really think I don’t care at all? What kind of bad joke is that? I guess it looks like that to people on the outside, but it’s obviously the opposite. Maybe I just never told her that. _

“Ah… Right. Well I’m fine, thank you.” The bassist paused, her silence creating a void that Ritsu had to fight not to fill with her own questions. “Can I ask you something seriously?”

“You can always try,” Ritsu responded, hoping her easy smile hid her complete lack of understanding about the situation at hand. “No promises about the quality of the answer though.”

Mio nodded absentmindedly, furthering the enigma Ritsu was facing. “I feel like I take you for granted sometimes,” she conceded carefully. “With the smacking around and the arguing, I mean. Some days I’m sure it looks like we hate each other. Am I just being paranoid?”

The drummer locked eyes with her childhood friend. There was a fair amount of conflict mixed with regret reflected in her grey orbs. The answer to her question, fortunately, took no time to formulate in Ritsu’s mind. “Yes, you are. I don’t exactly like getting hit, but if I thought it was a problem, do you really think I’d keep my mouth shut about it? Me?” Ritsu asked, placing a hand on her chest. “I know the difference between you hitting me and you trying to hurt me. If I thought you were doing the latter, believe me, you’d be the first to know. Come on, Mio, what’s really bothering you?”

Blinking, Mio broke the stare between the two of them. She played with her hair, twirling it around her finger while she held the conversation in stasis for another moment. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that I appreciate you, when you aren’t being a baka,” Mio whispered, a small blush forming on her cheeks. “I know it’s a bit cheesy, but I felt bad leaving it unsaid. You can make fun of me for being sappy now.”

Ritsu’s own face flushed at the unexpected praise. Noticing this, Mio raised an eyebrow. Realizing that she needed to say something, Ritsu opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her normally quick wit had shut down upon being thrust into a situation it had never even considered to be a possibility. With great effort and her mind screaming at her to make sounds from her mouth instead of gaping like a dead fish, Ritsu managed to speak. “Thanks. I appreciate you too. We make a good team.” _What the hell am I saying? Are Mio and Yui infecting me with their sappiness? _

Hearing the response enthused Mio greatly, and she genuinely smiled at her childhood friend, not noticing the drummer’s internal panic. “I agree. That’s why I think-” The bassist cut herself off, thinking over her words for a moment. “Actually, never mind for now. Classes are going to start shortly. We should get going.”

The thumping of Ritsu’s heart matched the rapid pace of her thoughts. _Seriously,_ _where did that response come from? What’s going on? Mio’s never been one to just dole out compliments for no reason. Did Mugi say something to her? No, I can trust her not to say anything. Maybe the fan club comment was out of line? Gah, who knows with this girl. I give up. I made my choice years ago anyways. If I wasn’t prepared to have weird days like today, I wouldn’t have chosen to stay with her. Put things back to normal._

Having sorted out her thoughts for the moment, Ritsu realized that she had stood up and was shouldering her bag. She chuckled to herself, provoking a strange look from Mio. “What?” she asked, heading for the door.

Flashing one of her trademark smiles, Ritsu matched Mio’s stride. “Do me a favor and don’t scare me with your serious question talk, okay? I’m too old to find a new childhood friend.”

Actually smiling at one of Ritsu’s jokes for once, Mio nodded. “So am I, baka.”

* * *

**November 11th, After School**

“She can’t hide forever,” Mio uttered unconvincingly.

“Yeah, and I can’t play the drums,” Ritsu retorted, spinning both of her drumsticks in one hand lazily.

“I can’t believe you just fed Ton-chan without me,” Tsumugi pouted glumly, eyeing the band’s pet sadly.

Ritsu cast a look of pity to the blonde, who was clearly not paying attention to the conversation around her. “Cheer up, Mugi. I’m sure Mio will have need of one of your convoluted plans before long. Feeding turtles isn’t the strangest thing she’s needed help doing by a mile.”

Reassurance from Ritsu worked wonders on the keyboardist, drawing her back to reality. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you, Ricchan.” Mio simply rolled her eyes, but she didn’t outright deny Ritsu’s claim, which in Ritsu’s book was an absolute win.

The three seniors had gathered in their clubroom after school as promised, though they were currently down both guitarists. “I knew we should have led with the bit about cake instead of how we needed her to have a serious conversation,” Ritsu grumbled, leaning her head on her free hand from her seat at the table. “I thought you would have learned that she avoids that word the way she avoids doing homework.”

Mio sighed. “You’re one to talk. How was I supposed to know she would bolt like that as soon as school ended? Besides, she probably would have stopped listening as soon as we said cake, defeating the purpose.” Mentioning the rather extravagant cake sitting in the center of the table only made it harder for all three girls to ignore.

The cake, though small, had more than enough personality to fill a room. It was covered in various bright colors of icing and small fruits that should have clashed aesthetically with each other yet somehow didn’t. The base itself was a plain white by contrast, sans the ‘Happy Birthday Azusa’ message spelled out in red lettering. The fact that Tsumugi was able to procure such a sweet on short notice spoke volumes to the different world she lived in compared to everyone else. Tearing her gaze away from the cake, Ritsu faced Tsumugi, who was frowning contemplatively in her chair. “I’m concerned about Yui-chan. She won’t respond to our calls. Shouldn’t we go looking for her?”

“No,” Mio denied firmly. “She has to come by her own free will, or there’s no point. We can’t force them to try and talk to each other directly. Who knows, maybe that’s what she’s doing right now.”

_No, she’s panicking somewhere, acting as immature about this whole thing as the rest of you, _Ritsu silently answered. Frankly, Yui had done better than she had expected, holding off on fleeing until classes had ended for the day. _Can’t say I’m much better. After this morning, if the positions were swapped and all my friends suddenly told me we need to have a serious talk between myself and Mio…_

Ritsu eyed the bassist, who was currently glowering intensely at the cake nobody had been allowed to touch in front of her. If looks could kill, the cake and all of its hypothetical cupcake children would be piles of ash. _Yep, I’d hide too. _

The squeaking of the door opening timidly drew excited stares from all three seniors that disappeared as soon as they saw who had entered. “Oh, it’s just the birthday girl,” Ritsu apathetically stated, giving their kouhai a half-hearted wave.

Azusa cocked her head at the lukewarm reception. “Nice to see you all too? Where’s Yui-senpai? What’s with the cake?”

“Happy birthday!” Tsumugi exclaimed, shooting out of her seat ecstatically. Though nobody matched her in enthusiasm, Mio attempted a polite smile, and Ritsu gave Azusa a thumbs up with her free hand. “Oh, I guess we aren’t saying that yet since Yui-chan isn’t here.” The heiress blushed and sank back into her chair.

“She ran off after class when we told her we wanted you and her to have a serious conversation,” Mio supplied for the junior. “We were hoping she might have gone to you.”

“Why’d you word it like that?” Azusa asked, setting her bag down. “And no, I haven’t seen her all day. She hasn’t come by my classroom since I yelled at her.”

Unsurprised, Ritsu stopped playing with her sticks and pulled out her phone. “We could ask Ui if she chose to go home,” she proposed, changing the subject.

“Without Giita?” Tsumugi pointed out. “Besides, Ui-chan would have contacted me if Yui-chan went home with her.”

_You? Why? _Ritsu wanted to ask, but she held her tongue in favor of the more pressing matter. “Well, since everyone but her is here, her time’s up. Either she comes over here now or I’m eating her share of the cake.”

“That’s not important right now, baka,” Mio scolded, though her eyes betrayed her own interest.

Azusa frowned as she took her seat at the table, Tsumugi having already set out some tea for her. “Ui-chan said her arm wasn’t badly injured, so it’s probably not that… Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. I thought she wanted to patch things up between us too, but perhaps I’ve misjudged things.”

Ritsu waited for Mio or Tsumugi to jump in and reassure Azusa that there was in fact no reason to be concerned, that Yui would surely show up soon, but was baffled when the room fell silent. Mio wasn’t looking at anything but the floor, and Tsumugi suddenly found something very interesting in the tea cabinet that required her attention. Azusa wasn’t much better, her own statement clearly eating away at the serious resolve she had entered the room with. Ritsu sighed. _Do I really have to handle this for everyone? I guess so. _“Alright, enough pouting,” Ritsu declared, standing up and marching towards the door. “Let’s get Yui in here and get this conversation over with. I want cake.”

“You know where she is?” Mio called after friend.

“No, but we just have to search the school top to bottom for her, right?” Ritsu asked rhetorically over her shoulder, forcing her way through both the clubroom door and the door to the roof directly across from it.

Having been prepared to literally comb the entire school top to bottom for her friend, it was an extremely pleasant surprise to see Yui pacing back and forth pensively on the far side of the roof, saving Ritsu in both time and cake freshness. When she heard the door open, Yui froze, staring at the intruder on her territory.

Shivering at the burst of cold air that greeted her entrance, Ritsu began to make her way towards the older guitarist. “Ah, Ricchan!” Yui exclaimed, rushing up to meet the drummer halfway. “Please, help me! I don’t know what to say!”

“If you wanted help, you shouldn’t have run off,” Ritsu retorted without any real malice in her tone. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

Yui rubbed the back of her neck over her scarf with the hand not holding her bag. “I come up here to think. I’m sorry if I worried you, but I… I’m scared! I don’t want to mess things up again. I can’t do that to Azu-nyan! She doesn’t deserve that! I-”

“You’ve been watching too many soap operas,” Ritsu chided, gripping the overreacting Yui by the arm and dragging her towards the clubroom. “Come on, we can have some cake while you think of something to say.”

Whatever initial struggle Yui had put up ceased immediately at the mention of cake, and she willingly followed the club president without so much as a complaint. Almost upset that her plan to motivate Yui had worked so well, Ritsu shook her head to herself. _I hope she knows not to accept these kinds of offers from strangers. _Even as she berated the guitarist, Ritsu couldn’t deny that the simple-minded enthusiasm Yui was exuding over the mere concept of cake was contagious enough to keep her warm against the November cold.

With both the door to the roof and the door to the clubroom still open, the other three members of the club were able to witness the entire interaction between their bandmates. Mio and Azusa stared at Ritsu, both evidently awed by her Yui tracking ability. Tsumugi, for her part, began to cut the cake on the table as if she had expected this turn of events. Yui smiled sheepishly at everyone, but her attention was quickly absorbed by the cake. “How’d you know Yui was on the roof?” Mio asked.

“I’m a genius, no further questions please,” Ritsu replied, unable to describe her dumb luck any other way. “Cake time, Mugi?”

Tsumugi nodded, but Azusa held up a hand in objection. “Hold on a minute. What happened to talking things out?”

Flopping into her seat, Ritsu jerked her thumb towards Yui, who was staring at the cake as if it would disappear if she blinked. “Go ahead. If you’re lucky Ton-chan might be able to understand what you’re saying before Yui can.”

Azusa’s objection hand lowered in defeat. “Fine. But we’re doing this as soon as the cake is eaten.”

“I’m glad you understand, Azu-nyan,” Yui thanked her kouhai, not taking her eyes away from the cake.

Tsumugi giggled while Mio rubbed her temples in annoyance. Following Yui’s words, cake was quickly served around the table, with Azusa getting the largest slice for obvious reasons. For all the pizazz that the top of the cake brought, the inside was startlingly light and fluffy, to the point that Ritsu felt like she was barely eating anything. Her serving was gone long before anyone else had finished theirs, even Yui. _Have I been eating too many sweets again? I should start running more to make up for it. _

Despite her misgivings about her weight, the cake was still delicious, a fact everyone, even Azusa, made sure Tsumugi was well aware of. Yui stared longingly at the place where the complete cake had been moments ago, her train of thought obvious to the other four girls in the room. “Yui-senpai,” Azusa spoke, waving a hand in front of Yui’s face to get her attention.

“Azu-nyan?” Yui asked, finally giving her kouhai her attention. “Did you want more cake? Sorry, it’s all gone.”

The kouhai heaved a sigh. “Come on, Yui-senpai, focus. That’s not the reason Ritsu-senpai brought you here and you know it.”

Yui met Azusa’s exasperated look innocently. “I mean, that was part of it, right? We’re celebrating your birthday, after all. I’m really looking forward to the party.”

Promptly realizing that her kouhai needed help, Ritsu jumped in. “Look, Yui, here’s how it is: you and Azusa feel bad about some things that happened in the past few days, so you need to talk it out and make up so we can go back to be being an awesome band. So, uh, do that. We’re just here as moral support or something. Moral captains of support, that sounds cooler.”

Azusa stared at Ritsu like she was an idiot, which she would be the first to admit that she was. Mio and Tsumugi also appeared to be unprepared for the blunt approach Ritsu selected. “Um, is it that simple?” Tsumugi asked, confused.

“Of course not,” Mio retorted. “Ignore Ritsu. Just say whatever you feel you need to say, Yui-chan,” she reassured the older, less-experienced guitarist.

Nodding more to herself than Mio, Yui completely faced her kouhai. Azusa met the senior’s gaze warily. Ritsu could cut the tension like a knife cut through cake, and she would have if Mio hadn’t glared at her to shut her up. “I’ll start by apologizing,” Azusa declared, standing up. “I injured your arm a few days ago, because I didn’t control myself properly. For that, I need to apologize, so I’m sorry.”

The familiar scene for Mio and Ritsu was interrupted by a loud gasp from Yui. “You knew?” she exclaimed, disappointed. “But I hid it so well!”

“Well, I wasn’t 100% certain until just now,” Azusa admitted, earning a blush of embarrassment from Yui. “But even if that wasn’t the case, I said some things I shouldn’t have, and would have apologized for that anyways.” Uncomfortable, the kouhai sat down once more.

Shockingly, the response didn’t completely placate Yui the way all the other seniors had expected. “Azu-nyan, I don’t know what you want from me,” she accused quietly.

Ritsu nearly fell out of her chair trying to figure out where the hurt in Yui’s tone had come from. “What I want?” Azusa echoed.

Yui nodded. “I’ve been thinking really hard about it, but I can’t figure it out. I thought you wanted things to become normal again, but you got mad about that a few days ago. I tried asking Ui, but she didn’t know either. I can change if you want me to, Azu-nyan. I’ll do anything to keep us all together.”

The conviction Ritsu and her fellow seniors had seen almost a week ago shone once more in Yui’s eyes. It occurred to Ritsu that Yui could be impossible to deter when she really wanted something. _What she wants, huh? What do I want? _The answer came immediately to the drummer, though she wasn’t sure if it felt as right as it did a week ago.

Azusa took her time responding to Yui’s ultimatum. In that time, Mio and Tsumugi exchanged three worried glances, and Ton changed direction four times in his tank by Ritsu’s count. “You… you don’t need to change, Yui-senpai. As much as I say that you should practice seriously and act like a better senpai, it wouldn’t feel right to me if you stopped being your annoying self just because of me. No, that’s not quite right.” The kouhai thought for a moment. “I want to be friends with Yui-senpai, not who Yui-senpai thinks I want to be friends with, if that makes sense.”

“Are you sure?” Yui asked urgently, searching Azusa’s eyes for confirmation.

Ritsu would have been weirded out by the look Yui was using had it been trained on her, but Azusa was evidently used to excessive amounts of attention from Yui, her response coming without hesitation. “I’m sure.”

All the negative energy was flushed out of the room with that one swift confirmation. “Hooray! Azu-nyan and I are best friends again!” Yui cheered, pulling both herself and Azusa out of their chairs into a hug.

Azusa pouted, but she didn’t stop Yui from celebrating. “Mou, Yui-senpai, everyone’s staring.”

“Good! Isn’t this great everyone?” Yui cheered.

“It’s a relief to be sure,” Mio agreed, smiling warmly at the exchange.

Seeing for herself that the group finally appeared to be on the right track once more, Ritsu relaxed. She hadn’t realized just how much the last couple of days had stressed her out until they were behind her. This sudden relief was immediately interrupted when Ritsu noticed the starry look in Tsumugi’s eyes as she observed the hug between the two guitarists. Nudging the blonde’s leg under the table, Ritsu raised an eyebrow at the heiress once she had her attention. Tsumugi’s response was a cryptic smile and a wink. Having no idea what that meant, Ritsu decided to have faith that Tsumugi wouldn’t do anything too drastic, not after both she and Mio had warned the keyboardist against such action. _If I can trust her with my own secret, I can trust her with this. Besides, there’s an easy way to keep everyone from doing something dumb._

“Alright, enough hugging, let’s practice,” Ritsu declared, feeling motivated by forces that had nothing to do with her concern over her cake intake.

“Yay, practice!” Yui exclaimed, dislodging from Azusa and making a beeline for her guitar.

“Yui-chan, wait,” Mio called out, cutting the guitarist’s enthusiasm short. “What about your arm? Didn’t the doctor tell you to rest it today?”

Remembering this fact herself, Yui stopped halfway through taking her guitar out of its case. “Oh yeah… Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Disregarding critical information necessary for her recovery, Yui finished removing her guitar and set about tuning it.

Before anyone else could get on Yui’s case, Azusa had already crossed the room and ripped Giita from Yui’s grasp. “Listen to the doctor, Yui-senpai,” Azusa ordered impartially. “We can practice again on Monday. As a matter of fact, I’ll take Giita home with me until then. I don’t want you hurting yourself by messing around with your guitar at home.” Without allowing Yui to argue, Azusa began putting away her senpai’s guitar.

“Huh? Azu-nyan, you can’t do that! I need Giita! I won’t play him, I promise!” Yui’s begging fell on deaf ears as Azusa finished zipping up the older girl’s instrument.

Now shouldering two guitars in addition to her school bag, Azusa looked more like a travelling hitchhiker than a student. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Azusa chided. “I’ve heard Ui-chan’s stories. Honestly, I’ve been meaning to inspect your guitar for damages anyways. Seriously, who takes a guitar with them into the shower?!”

Yui’s panicked pleading had evolved into pathetic begging. She threw the kouhai her best puppy dog face, eyes filling with tears of innocence and pure intentions as she tugged insistently on Azusa’s skirt. “Azu-nyan…” she whispered in a barely audible voice, her grip much firmer than it looked. “Please… My love…Don’t leave me…”

Azusa sighed, trying desperately not to react to Yui’s choice of words. She turned towards her other senpais, a pleading expression on her face. Tsumugi rose from her seat, placing a hand on Yui’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’s a good idea for you to rest right now, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi explained in a motherly voice. “We all just want you to feel better, especially Azusa-chan.”

The kouhai took some visible offense to the last part of Tsumugi’s remark, but she kept her commentary to herself. Yui still appeared to be crushed by the current turn of events, but she let go of Azusa’s skirt reluctantly. Mio rose from her seat as well, picking up her bag and Tsumugi’s. “We’ll help you carry Yui-chan’s guitar, Azusa-chan,” Mio offered, Tsumugi nodding in agreement. “Ritsu, watch over Yui-chan and make sure she gets home okay.”

“What? Why can’t we just walk home together?” Ritsu asked, popping out of her seat.

Mio pointed to Yui, who was covertly reaching towards her guitar case when she thought Azusa wasn’t looking, only for Azusa to gently smack her hand away at the last second. “That’s why. Come on, this is for Yui-chan.”

“If it was for me you’d let me take Giita home,” Yui grumbled.

Realizing that she didn’t have another choice, Ritsu shrugged. “Alright, fine. Looks like it’s you and me, private.”

Nodding in satisfaction, Azusa opened the clubroom door. “We’ll see you two tomorrow, then. Thanks for your help today!”

Waving her three friends off, Ritsu turned her attention to the forlorn guitarist, who had collapsed against the couch in exhaustion. “I’m tired,” she muttered. “Carry me home, captain.”

“No, you carry me home, private,” Ritsu retorted, joining her friend on the couch. “I’m just as tired after today as you are. Keeping bands together is hard work.”

“Is that why so many bands break up sooner than people think they will?” Yui asked curiously, staring at the ceiling.

Ritsu thought about that for a second. “I guess so. Getting along is hard. You have to be willing to give and take things and… stuff.”

“What do you mean?” Yui turned her head to look at the drummer.

“Mou, I don’t know, Yui, it’s just hard sometimes. People will get mad over the weirdest things.” The conversation was far above Ritsu’s knowledge threshold, but Yui didn’t seem to acknowledge this or care.

The guitarist pulled herself up into a normal sitting position. “Am I a good senpai?” she wondered aloud.

“Absolutely not,” Ritsu confirmed, also sitting herself up properly. “If anything, Nakano should be your senpai.”

“Ehehe, yeah,” Yui giggled lightly. “She’s the best.”

Noticing the blush forming on Yui’s cheeks awoke a nostalgia within Ritsu she had nearly forgotten she had. _Didn’t I literally just warn Mugi against saying something? But that was Mugi. This is me. Besides, Yui clearly would benefit from some advice if Mio and Mugi are right. _

“Do you love Nakano?” Ritsu bluntly asked, not willing to risk losing her nerve.

“I do,” the guitarist replied, unfazed. “Why?” Bright eyes gave their friend a look of curiosity.

“Does she know?” the drummer followed up. “Nakano, I mean.”

Yui placed a finger on her chin, thinking. “I don’t think so. I haven’t decided what to say to her about it, and the only other one who knows how I feel is Ui-chan.”

_That would help explain why Ui’s so intent on keeping that rumor quiet, _Ritsu mused to herself. Refocusing on the girl next to her, Ritsu took a deep breath. “Let me give you some advice then, Yui. I’m not Mio, Mugi, or Nakano. I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you. If you really love Nakano, then don’t say anything. No amount of love is worth risking losing her forever if you really care about her.”

The declaration rested heavy on Yui, something even Ritsu could tell by the way her friend’s brows furrowed as she took in the drummer’s words. “Mugi said the opposite thing to me the other day, while we were working on Azu-nyan’s birthday present together,” Yui revealed, tilting her head. “Now I’m even more confused. Who’s right?”

_You’re asking me? _Ritsu refrained from retorting. It hadn’t occurred to Ritsu that Tsumugi might have been several steps ahead of the game she was only just starting to play with Yui. _No wonder she didn’t say anything just now. There was no need to in her mind. Ugh. Why can’t anyone see that we’re just throwing away the months we have left? _

Despite her frustration, Ritsu maintained the presence of mind not to mess up her own conversation. “That’s up to you to decide, private. I’m telling you what I think will keep everyone together through March, but it’s up to you. Just try not to overthink it.”

Yui brightened considerably. “I’m really good at that, captain!” she insisted, giving Ritsu a smile that she reciprocated easily.

“I know, Yui, I know. Come on, I think there’s enough distance between us and the others by now.” Standing up and stretching out her limbs, Ritsu scooped up her bag and started for the door she didn’t realize the other girls had left open.

Doubt echoed in Ritsu’s mind as she watched Yui fumble with her single bag, no doubt feeling the loss of her guitar all over again. _Should I not have said something? No, don’t think about it. What’s done is done. It’s not your fault if Yui doesn’t want to follow your path. Just enjoy today while it’s here. That’s all I should ever be doing. The others will understand, I’m sure. These things always work themselves out, and when they don’t, Mio works them out. That’s how it should be._

By the time Ritsu had gotten home, her concerns from the day no longer existed in her mind. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe they didn’t exist, rather she simply decided that they weren’t worth the time it took to worry about them, and therefore might as well disappear. She greeted her annoying punk of a little brother, made a snack out of the leftovers in the fridge, said hello to her parents, and proceeded to ignore her homework for the evening, just the same way she had been doing for years without fail. And there was nothing wrong with that.


	12. I just want everyone to be happy again

**November 12th, 1 hour after school.**

“They’re the same!” Ritsu shot out of her chair like a cannonball, jostling teacups and plates alike while pointing dramatically at her adversary.

Mio was unfazed, rising slowly and methodically from her own seat, placing her hands on the table to steady her resolve. “No, baka, I’m telling you they’re different.” The grey typhoons within the bassist’s eyes threatened to tear apart Ritsu’s argument right along with the rest of the room, but the drummer weathered the storm firmly.

Staring longingly at her abandoned guitar, Azusa sighed. “It’d be nice if we could do either at this point.”

“You’re the one who kidnapped Giita, Nakano!” Ritsu shouted with a glare at the kouhai, whose response was to let out an eep of shock and hide her face behind her trademark tea mug. “We can’t play or practice without Yui’s instrument.”

“Ah-ha!” Mio exclaimed, grinning triumphantly at the startle she got from her friends. “You implied that practice and play are two different things with that sentence. That means I’m right.” Sitting down in her chair, Mio folded her arms in victory.

Ritsu gaped for at least half a second, stunned in equal parts by Mio’s logic and the fact that she didn’t have a proper argument to combat it. “Huh? No! I misspoke! Don’t get all uppity on me just because of a grammar mistake! That’s not fair!” For all the hot air Ritsu spouted in her own defense, she failed to so much as ruffle Mio’s hair.

While Azusa took shelter in the world of cat-themed novelty dishware, Yui took a long sip of her tea, blissfully ignorant of the brewing chaos around her. “I think they’re both fun!” she chirped, smiling at nobody.

Not even Mio’s virulent stare could cajole the guitarist into taking the conversation seriously. “Yui-chan, that’s not the question here,” she fruitlessly attempted to explain to the brick wall with a yellow hairpin. “And in any case, I believe we’re all in agreement, based on what I’ve heard from Ritsu.”

Tsumugi looked on fondly from her seat as her friends continued to bicker amongst themselves. It was heartwarming to witness Ritsu and Mio going at each other’s throats with a fresh vigor while Azusa muttered to herself about how their band desperately needed to practice more, with Yui singing a senseless song about how wonderful playing while drinking tea is the entire time. It was a complicated piano melody Tsumugi had been unable to play for weeks now, one she had feared she’d never be able to so much as hear again. As much as she loved her chosen instrument, since forming HTT, she had found making music by herself to be a rather cheerless hobby in comparison to the alternative. When she chose to play alone, she was usually working on something for the band or showing herself off to some odd guest at the estate with an interest in music. The thought of those being her only avenues to express her feelings in sound made her skin crawl.

_But that won’t happen. Slowly, surely, they’re coming back. Days like today are what we’ve been missing since the festival. Days like today are why I can’t let the last several weeks repeat themselves again. _

The heiress crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table, a pervasive feeling of restlessness overcoming her. Merely the thought of the dark fog that still jeopardized her life provoked her desire to leap into battle. She took a few breaths to quell her rising adrenaline. _Relax, Mugi. You’ve set things up perfectly. Everything will be resolved tomorrow. They won’t have to hide anything anymore. Soon, I’ll be free, and I’ll be able to bring my family with me. Enjoy the moment you’ve been granted now. _

Adjusting her attention back to her friends, Tsumugi found that Ritsu had given up on yelling to revive her argument and resorted to democracy. “Private, I need help! Explain to the enemy that playing and practicing are the same thing!” She pointed a drumstick that had materialized in her hand at some point like a sword at Mio’s chest, directing her partner in crime’s actions. _She’s such a leader when it comes to things that don’t matter. It’s truly incredible._

Eager to please, Yui also rose from her seat, taking things one step further by standing on her chair. Worry flashed in Mio’s eyes for an instant as she watched Yui struggle to maintain her precarious balance, unsteady legs wobbling like a newborn deer before finding confidence in their purchase. Tsumugi smiled privately. _Yui-chan is still doing her best for us. Of everyone, she deserves someone returning the favor the most. _ Ritsu smirked knowingly at her friend’s show of authority while Azusa did a poor job of pretending to be aloof towards her senpai’s self-destructive actions. “They’re the same, Mio-chan!” Yui exclaimed, her footing finding a firmness to match the confidence in her tone. The older guitarist inhaled deeply, preparing some sort of irrefutable argument that even Mio, with all her wisdom, couldn’t hope to counter. “Azu-nyan will vouch for me! She’s smarter than I am!”

A giggle escaped Tsumugi as the rest of the room’s tension collectively deflated in response to Yui’s declaration. “Weren’t you the one telling me practicing and playing weren’t the same thing last week? Seriously, don’t just agree with Ritsu-senpai because she told you to,” Azusa reprimanded impassively, clearly trying to look like she wished she was somewhere else. _But you enjoy this just as much as we do, don’t you?_

Yui shook her head empathetically. “No, Azu-nyan, this is different.” Four girls leaned forward a little towards the guitarist, as if they had missed the justification for her claim that Yui had opted not to provide. When a cheerful grin was the only thing they were met with, another sigh ran around the table.

Blatantly annoyed, Mio held up two fingers. “One, Yui-chan, get down before you hurt yourself again, the club can’t afford to pay for another chair or your hospital bill. Two, unlike you two, Azusa-chan actually understands what it means to practice her instrument.” The air of superiority Mio gave off nearly knocked Yui from her perch, the brunette having to get Ritsu’s help reaching the ground safely again.

Confirming that Yui wasn’t about to get a matching bruise on her other arm, Ritsu refocused on the matter at hand. “Hold on there, barnacle girl. Just because Yui’s taste in friends is as poor as my word choice doesn’t mean you’re right!” Azusa’s indignant outcry at this insult was ignored. “If these two things are different, as you say, what, pray tell, could this distinction be? You have five seconds to answer go!”

Her mind distracted from barnacles by Ritsu’s challenge, Mio spoke hastily. “I play when I want to relax. I practice in order to learn and get better at my instrument. Two different things. Not the same. Happy?” Ritsu wasn’t happy, but no immediate retort came to mind, earning Mio another point in her favor. _Mio-chan can be the most stubborn out of everyone, which is really saying something. It’s nice to have someone so reliable around, though. Without her or Azusa-chan, we’d probably be the after-school tea time club._

“But are you saying you can’t learn by playing while relaxing?” Yui innocently retaliated for her comrade. “That’s how I learn new things with… with Giita.” Lonely chills ran down the guitarist’s spine, a once bright expression darkened considerably as Yui’s eyes drifted over to the empty space where her guitar case usually rested.

Setting her mug down, Azusa snapped her fingers near Yui’s face impatiently to pull the senpai out of her trance. “Mou, Yui-senpai there’s no other way you could learn how to practice but to play, since you won’t read sheet music,” Azusa rebutted. “Some of us actually have to make schedules and plans and devote ourselves to practice sessions every day just to sound decent.” _You say that like you don’t know that you’re every bit as good as Yui-chan, perhaps better. _

The jab at Yui’s lax nature completely whiffed as Yui smiled fondly at her kouhai. “It’s more fun when you or Mio-chan or Ui show me how to do it! Playing together is the best!” Yui gushed, swooning back and forth in her chair.

“If that’s why you won’t learn to read sheet music, I’m going to stop helping you,” Azusa cruelly decreed, huffing at her senpai.

“Eh? Azu-nyan, no! If you do that, I… I’ll never come to your house again!” Yui threatened in a panic.

Azusa opened her mouth to deliver a scathing remark, but the fire died in her throat. Though nobody believed Yui’s claim, least of all Azusa, something was preventing her from calling her senpai out on it. “You better at least remember your chords the next time I test you,” the younger guitarist demanded instead, changing the subject. “I can only teach you the same thing so many times.” The way Azusa looked away hid from everyone but Tsumugi the lie behind that claim.

“Forte means loud!” Yui cheered loudly, earning a reluctant snicker from Azusa that she would vehemently deny happened if anyone asked.

“That’s enough from the peanut gallery. It’s two vs two,” Ritsu announced to interrupt the pair’s back and forth, switching her gaze to Tsumugi. “Mugi! You’re on our side! Explain why Mio and Nakano are wrong!”

“What?” Tsumugi asked, yanked out of her private daydream. “Well, I-“

Mio cast an understanding look towards the blonde. “It’s alright, Mugi-chan, you don’t have to listen to that baka. Playing and practicing are obviously two different things. Please explain that to our resident airheads.”

“Hey, I resemble that!” Yui declared resentfully, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Azusa.

_Oh my. It’s really up to me? _Tsumugi took in the expectant looks from her closest friends. _They both make such strong points. It’s hard to argue against either side. Hmmm. This is tough. Do I go with practice or play? Which one is better?_

“Play!” Tsumugi declared proudly, making her decision.

All four girls tilted their heads in unison. “Sure?” Ritsu offered, unclear on what she was agreeing to.

Tsumugi realized that she was being stared at and blushed, her mistake becoming clear. “Oh, sorry. I mean playing and practicing are two different things.”

“Mugi-chan, how could you?!” Yui cried out, tears of betrayal forming in her wide eyes.

Without missing a beat, Ritsu whipped out an invisible journal and pencil. “Captain’s log, day 45: We’ve lost Mugi. I don’t know what those bastards did, but she’s too far gone to save. It’s just me and the private now. Not sure how long we can hold out. More later.” Shoving the nonexistent diary back into her pocket, Ritsu’s eyes sparked a playful challenge towards Tsumugi. “Care to explain yourself, traitor?”

“Sure!” Tsumugi agreed readily. “Practicing and playing can both help you get better, but there’s a clear difference, at least to me. When I practice, I’m focusing on trying to get better so that when I play, I don’t have to think about what I’m doing, so it feels natural. That’s the distinction I’ve made, anyways. Playing is when you put on a performance for others, and practice is when you play by yourself or with your band, even if you’re just messing around. Does that make sense?”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Tsumugi folded her hands over each other in her lap, calmly awaiting the reception for her opinion. She liked to think patience was one of her strong suits. _Besides, it’s easy to wait when every second is precious. _Glancing at the others to make sure they weren’t about to say something, Azusa fearlessly broke the taboo by nodding her head. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. I can agree with that, Mugi-senpai.”

“Hooray, Azu-nyan and I are best friends again!” Yui cheered, going for a hug that was stopped dead by Azuza’s hand on her senpai’s forehead.

“It loses impact the second time you say it,” the younger girl denied, though she didn’t bother trying to hide the fondness in her expression over Yui’s antics.

Mio and Ritsu exchanged a look and then shrugged simultaneously. “We agree too,” Ritsu spoke for the two of them. “That was some sharp thinking, Mugi.”

Tsumugi grinned giddily, feeling her face flush at the praise. “Thank you, Ricchan. I’ve been playing and practicing for a long time, you know.”

“You started when you were 4, right?” Mio confirmed. “Your talent with the keyboard really is impressive. I wish I could play the bass that well.”

“Yeah, I want to start when I’m four too!” Yui declared, still attempting and failing to hug her kouhai.

“That’s not how time works, private,” Ritsu muttered dismissively, returning to her tea.

“Are you five done yelling?” Sawako grumpily interrupted. “I get enough of this dealing with you rowdy students during the day. The least you could do is let me enjoy my tea time.”

Mio and Yui both jumped in their seats, having forgotten that Sawako was there. Tsumugi only nodded in concession to her teacher’s question. After the first few incidents years ago, she had learned to notice when Sawako was visiting their clubroom, especially after experiencing first-hand how badly disturbing an irritated Sawako could become when there was no tea to satiate her. “Our apologies, sensei,” Azusa apologized for the group. “We’ll quiet down.”

“But what if we want to play?” Yui pointed out. “That’s pretty loud- excuse me, forte.”

“Good luck playing without an instrument,” Ritsu reminded her friend, injecting the guitarist with another round of self-pity.

Conversation flowed at a more natural pace as everyone finished their snacks and tea. Tsumugi chimed in when she felt it was appropriate, but her mind was elsewhere. The number of words she spoke in the club never had any large impact on how much she enjoyed herself anyways. Merely being around her family was enough to invigorate her body and spirit better than any cup of tea could. _Tomorrow’s the day. Oh, I hope I’ve set everything up properly. Of course, there’s a few things I still need to take care of, but if I did it right, everything should flow naturally tomorrow, and my family won’t go their separate ways again. The family I can trust, who trust me. _Seeing the air of normalcy enveloping her only hardened the blonde’s resolve. _I have to follow through, finish what we’ve started. To protect us, and this feeling of love, I can’t let it go, not ever again._

Ritsu made a terrible joke at Sawako’s expense, causing Mio to smack her childhood friend on the head. Tsumugi’s eyes shone at the exchange, unaffected by familiarity. _They’re always right on the edge of saying something. But Ricchan will never abandon Mio-chan. I won’t need to reveal Ricchan’s secret admirations anytime soon. Azusa-chan and Yui-chan, however, are another story, one that needs to move forward sooner rather than later. They’re only going to have so many chances. I have to help them while I still can._

The guitarist duo was currently holding their own conversation, with Yui trying to explain to Azusa why it was absolutely necessary that she tuck Giita in before she went to bed so he didn’t get cold at night. While their exchange wasn’t anything special, every interaction between just the two of them had been required reading for Tsumugi in the past week or so since their meeting that morning. She had spent most of her recent time attempting to slowly, painstakingly entice Yui into understanding her own emotions, culminating in her helping Yui purchase a present for Azusa’s birthday that would make her feelings as clear as possible to the kouhai. That was in addition to coaxing a certain cat-like kouhai into being prepared for such a confession. Morning visits to Azusa’s classroom to provide said encouragement under the guise of learning guitar may have produced the unintended side effect of perpetuating some rumors, but they could be dealt with once Tsumugi’s primary objective was achieved. _Azusa-chan is fragile when it comes to how Yui-chan feels. If things don’t go well, everything will be ruined. This would have been much easier if Mio-chan and Ricchan hadn’t acted on their own… Oh well. I have to make sure everything is set up perfectly for them tomorrow. Not just for Azusa-chan and Yui-chan._

Influencing Mio for the most important stage of her plan had been simple. Mio was already looking for a solution, so all Tsumugi had to do was plant a seed and ensure that Mio thought she was growing it herself. She couldn’t be the one to suggest everyone attempt to get into the college she wanted to go to, after all. All that was left to do now was to make things look natural during the party, and for that, she’d need to make sure the characters not in her band were on board, knowingly or otherwise. By the time Tsumugi had finished mulling over her week’s work to herself, the rest of the group had polished off their tea and snacks. Without a lead guitarist, everyone had decided to call things without practicing for the day, the fact that it was Saturday being a decent influence on their decision. It took Tsumugi a moment too long to register this information, her mind only catching up to the present as the closing of the clubroom door announced Sawako’s exit, leaving Ritsu staring at Tsumugi curiously.

“You alright, Mugi?” Ritsu asked in concern. “You’ve been a bit quiet today.”

Blinking, Tsumugi shook herself, still preoccupied with her target’s escape. “Ah, yes, I’m alright, thank you Ricchan. I just remembered I needed to ask Sawako-sensei about one of our homework assignments. I’ll be right back.” Quickly, Tsumugi made her way out the door, hoping to catch her homeroom teacher before she got too far away.

Fortunately for the keyboardist, Sawako wasn’t in a hurry to get back to work, and she was able to reach her teacher at the bottom of the stairs. “Sawako-sensei, hold on a second!” Tsumugi called out.

Turning, Sawako frowned curiously at the heiress from where she stood a few steps below her. “What, did I forget something?” the teacher asked, having yet to slip back into her friendly teacher persona.

Tsumugi denied the teacher’s guess with her expression. “No, I just wanted to ask a favor, if you don’t mind.” Out of respect for Sawako’s authority, Tsumugi moved to stand at the same elevation as the teacher.

“I can’t curve Yui-chan’s grade any more than I already have,” Sawako firmly insisted, ignoring the show of courtesy. “I’ll get in trouble with the school if I let on that I’m playing favorites with my clubs.”

It occurred to Tsumugi that she had another issue that would need solving after the party. _Yui-chan will need to shape up considerably in order to attend college with us. Well, if I was really worried about that, I wouldn’t have chosen this path in the first place. However, it won’t do for her to start failing again. _“Actually… no, let’s talk about that later. I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come to the party a bit early tomorrow,” Tsumugi explained, hopping from one foot to the other as each word ran from her mouth.

Though the situation probably called for more tact than Tsumugi’s body language exuded, she knew better than to slip into business mode on someone with as much dormant fire in her as Sawako. “I guess so? Why though?” The teacher questioned, pushing her glasses up on her face suspiciously. “I wasn’t exactly planning on making a day out of this, you know. God knows there’s plenty of homework for me to grade over the next two days.”

Fastening herself to the ground, Tsumugi put on her most diplomatic voice. “Ui-chan and I will be busy with food preparations right before the party, and based on my conversations with her, it will be difficult for Ui-chan to focus if Yui-chan doesn’t have a friend around to distract her.”

Sawako rolled her eyes, spinning away on one heel. “Then ask one of her friends. I’m your teacher. I’m in this for the free cake. No cake, no Sawako.” She started to waltz off, waving to the heiress without looking back.

Not one to quit so easily, Tsumugi darted out in front of the teacher’s path. Sawako regarded her student with a thin smile that darkly suggested Tsumugi stop bothering her. Averting her eyes from looking directly at Sawako’s, Tsumugi continued while adrenaline controlled her nerves. “I am asking you because I can’t ask the others, Sawako-sensei. It is Azusa-chan’s party, so I can’t force her to show up early, and since Mio-chan and Ricchan are coming together, the purpose of having food ready before everyone arrives would be practically defeated if I had them come early. That leaves you, Sawako-sensei. Please, would you mind?” The keyboardist gasped with as much dignity as possible, having spoken in a single breath.

Sunlight hid Sawako’s eyes behind her glasses as she absorbed the pitch. Alarm bells began to ring in Tsumugi’s head as she detected the warnings Sawako’s own mind was giving her about Tsumugi’s behavior. _Calm down, Mugi. Don’t make it look like a big deal. Because it’s not. For normal people, this isn’t a big deal. It’s not a big deal! _Normalizing her breathing was suddenly a difficult task when under pressure, but Tsumugi managed to steady herself all the same.

“How early are we talking?” the former guitarist asked, indicating that she still hadn’t been convinced with the placement of her hands on her hips.

Tsumugi put a delicate finger to her chin, pretending to pull a number out of thin air. “Oh, only about twenty or thirty minutes. Please? It would mean a lot to me, and I’ll be sure to have my best tea ready for you.”

The mention of tea caused Sawako’s ears to perk up, tilting the hand her blank expression was attempting to hide. Noticing the hope that lit up in Tsumugi’s eyes, the teacher uttered a curse to herself, shrugging in concession of defeat. “So much for bargaining. You know how to get my attention, Kotobuki. That’s not a quality I’d like to foster in my students, but I suppose you and the others are a bit of a special case.”

An innocent open-mouthed smile that lit up the hall was Tsumugi’s response. Sawako stared with what could vaguely be described as warmth at the heiress, absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of her yellow dress. “Alright, fine, you win. I’ll be there twenty minutes early or so. But it’s not my fault if Yui doesn’t find death metal interesting.”

Overjoyed beyond the point of listening to Sawako’s warning, Tsumugi bowed deeply to her teacher. “Thank you, Sawa-chan, thank you! I’ll see you tomorrow!” The blonde retreated upstairs while Sawako waved her off nonchalantly, turning away before Tsumugi could see the small frown that was forming on the advisor’s face.

Skipping up the stairs two at a time, Tsumugi gave herself an enthusiastic pat on the back for her success. _One down, one to go. It’s really happening. I’m really doing this. Oh, this is so exciting! _ Everything was falling into place without so much as a hitch. The fear that had paralyzed Tsumugi to the point that she had nearly allowed her family to come to blows a week ago during that meeting in the park felt like a distant memory, a fatalistic dream she had finally woken up from.

With gusto to spare, Tsumugi reopened the clubroom door to find her four friends putting away the last of the dishes from their snack time. The heiress blushed, embarrassed upon realizing that she had abandoned her task. “No, you four didn’t need to do that, I was going to take care of it!” Tsumugi insisted, rushing over to help.

“Please, it’s the least we could do to pitch in,” Mio explained, smiling at Tsumugi while handing her the last remaining teacup. “This is everyone’s job, not yours. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“We’re a band,” Yui seconded, with Azusa nodding thoughtfully behind her as she scrubbed a plate. “We play, practice, and clean together.”

Tsumugi felt every heartbeat thump insistently against her chest, the warm sensation of everyone’s kindness enveloping her in a trance-like bliss as she helped everyone finish their chores. With a clean room behind them, the five girls retrieved their bags, and those that had instruments to take home picked those up as well. Coming down to reality once more, Tsumugi checked the time on her phone. _Hmm. I should hurry to the train station soon. I’ve kept Ui-chan waiting for a while now. She should find a club to join. Then again, taking care of Yui-chan is probably enough work in and of itself. _Yui proved the point Tsumugi had made to herself by forgetting to take her bag with her, distracted by staring at Mio and Azusa’s guitars. Azusa let out a sigh of resignation and picked up Yui’s bag for her, thrusting it callously into the older guitarist’s hands. “Take better care of your things,” Azusa ordered with finality.

Yui saluted seriously. “Yes, senpai!” Azusa didn’t qualify the salute with a response, instead joining Mio and Ritsu where they waited at the door.

Tsumugi followed her friends out the door and out of the school. The five of them conversed excitedly, their enthusiasm for the party keeping them warm against the chilly November wind. Wisps of grey clouds formed and evaporated in an arbitrary pattern in the sky, the sun devoting all its energy to burning away the sky instead of warming the ground. Reaching the train station, Tsumugi waved farewell to her band, stepping onto the decently populated platform to search for her target. Commuters blotted out the space of most of the station, making their way home from late shifts at work or returning home from the day’s activities. Tsumugi’s easy smile faded as she searched around brown coats and obstructive briefcases for her fellow student. She had assumed Ui would have the sense not to make her presence known to Yui and the others, lest their private conversation gain a few too many pairs of ears, but finding Ui herself was proving to be more difficult than Tsumugi had anticipated. Though she wasn’t in danger of missing her train yet, Tsumugi would have preferred to get home sooner rather than later. Proper rest would be imperative for her success tomorrow. _Hm. I’ve been over the platform a few times now. Ui-chan doesn’t seem like the type of person to flake on her word. I might have to resort to a more direct method if she doesn’t answer her phone. _

“If you’re looking for Ui, she’s not coming,” came a voice from behind Tsumugi, causing her to nearly drop her phone with a jolt. “But I’ll take a message for you. I’m nice like that.”

Whipping around, Tsumugi took in the abomination to all things natural hair styles with a bass slung over her shoulder. Though she had been startled for an instant, Tsumugi’s professional façade returned to her almost instantly. “Suzuki Jun-chan, was it? Is Ui-chan unwell?” A train arrived at the station, the hissing of braking wheels and the whirring of metal doors opening the only sounds that jumped to answer the keyboardist’s question.

Jun shoved her hands in her blazer pockets and turned away, motioning with her head for Tsumugi to follow. It was clear that the younger girl’s disrespectful actions were born from somewhere equally unpleasant as the distaste their results left in Tsumugi’s mouth, but she didn’t have time to deeply indulge Jun’s concerns, not if she wanted to get to Ui before the last trains ran. Senses trained on the first out she could locate, Tsumugi allowed herself to be led over to a bench on the edge of the platform. Jun flopped down lazily, glancing around to make sure the passing of commuters wouldn’t interrupt their conversation. When the environment had been cultivated to her satisfaction, she spoke again. “Ui’s doing swell because she didn’t have to wait out in the cold for you,” Jun spat with barely tempered disgust. “Can’t say the same for myself. Seriously, what’s with you all? Why can’t you just leave my friends alone?”

Choosing to remain on her feet, Tsumugi looked beyond the moody bassist, her mind already racing elsewhere over the turn of events. “I suppose I’ll have to visit Ui-chan and Yui-chan’s house then…” Tsumugi mused, ignoring Jun’s question and instead giving the younger girl an impersonal smile. “Well, I should be off, then. Thank you for letting me know that Ui-chan isn’t coming, Jun-chan. I’ll be sure to let her know that sending proxies is inconsiderate in the modern age.” Tsumugi made it all of two steps before a hand took hold of her arm, anchoring her where she stood.

A few passerby shot curious looks towards the strange position Tsumugi and Jun found themselves in, but the glare adorning the bassist encouraged everyone to mind their own business. “Hey, hold on there! Ui didn’t ask me to be here, I’m here because someone needs to tell you to wake the hell up. Where do you get off, making me wait for this long and then walking away like that? I want answers, Mugi-senpai.” Jun’s eyes burned with a frustration that intrigued Tsumugi, having seen the same look in the mirror plenty of times.

Glancing over her shoulder, Tsumugi blinked once, doing nothing to dislodge herself from Jun’s grip. “Answers about what?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what business Azusa’s friend had with her. _You’re not part of my plan, Suzuki-chan, and I can’t afford any distractions at the moment. Distractions lead to disasters._

“About my friends, and why you’re going out of your way to mess with them,” Jun charged. “You and the rest of them, but especially you. I don’t care if you’re throwing the biggest birthday party ever, there’s no reason for you to hang out around our classroom before school every day. It’s clearly making Ui uncomfortable. Don’t even get me started on what you’ve been saying to Azusa.”

Committing herself to fully turn to face the younger girl, Tsumugi took in the frustration Jun’s face and grip expressed to her. “I’m sorry if my actions frustrate you, truly,” Tsumugi apologized candidly. “This is a… trying time for our band, but there’s no need for you to be concerned. I’m taking care of everything.”

Though she let go of Tsumugi’s arm, the tense posture Jun held indicated that she wasn’t going to let the heiress just walk away. “That’s why I’m concerned,” Jun snapped back. “Ui-chan refused to meet with you today. That girl is one of the most terrifying people I know when she wants to be, and I’m her best friend. If that doesn’t set off alarm bells, nothing will. What are you planning to do?”

“Is that right?” Tsumugi echoed thoughtfully, once more ignoring Jun’s question. “Then my only plan right now is to assuage her fears. Now, I must be off. Please refrain from interfering with the affairs of the Light Music Club any further.” Half-expecting to be seized again, Tsumugi was pleasantly surprised when she was able to walk away without any physical impedances.

“Next year, we’re going to be the Light Music Club, you know.”

Tsumugi stopped dead in her tracks, irritating the people walking around her. “I’m not a complete moron,” Jun continued, her eyes boring into the back of Tsumugi’s head. “You’re trying to hook up Yui-senpai and Azusa in order to keep the band together, right? You can’t change Azusa’s age, so you’re trying to force her to remain connected to your little clique. Do you have any idea how selfish that is? Ui won’t say it out loud, but I can tell, and unlike her, I don’t have a problem calling you out on your crap. If they’re going to get together, it has to be because they decide to get together, not because of whatever the hell you’re trying to force them into.” Jun was probably feeling very satisfied with her ultimatum, right up until Tsumugi turned around again and froze her to the spot with a look.

With a faux smile and a glint in her eye that suggested something far more sinister than she could ever be capable of, Tsumugi marched right up to Jun, shoving aside innocent passerby who got in the way until the two were face to face, noses almost touching. Unprepared for such and aggressive response, Jun cowered under Tsumugi’s piercing stare, which contrasted the neutral coolness in her tone when she spoke once more. “Don’t you dare accuse me of forcing them into anything,” Tsumugi icily commanded. “I have a way I’d like things to turn out, yes, but the decision is absolutely up to them. I don’t have to force anyone into anything because I trust my friends to make the right decision with the information they have. Azusa-chan belongs with HTT. As long as she feels that way, it’s my responsibility to make sure she’s happy with us. The same goes for the others.”

The two girl’s faces nearly made contact as Jun’s poufy bunches of hair bumped against the metal backing rising up behind the bench. It hadn’t even occurred to Tsumugi that she had driven Jun back to the bench she had originally been seated at, and she quickly backed off to allow Azusa’s friend to breathe. _I’m doing it again. Come on, Mugi, control yourself! You can’t just shove other people around like this! It’s only going to make things worse! _

No response had come to the bassist while Tsumugi berated herself, but when the two made eye contact again, Jun managed to muster the wherewithal to say something. “I… you… no, you’re wrong, senpai. Pushing them to see if they hook up isn’t the same as making them happy. Can’t you see messing with things like this is wrong?”

“Why?” Tsumugi responded, genuinely curious. “What makes it wrong? I’m only giving them a nudge. They have to initiate things themselves. If it increases the odds that the people I love don’t have to go their separates ways, then all the better.” That Jun didn’t understand Tsumugi’s logic based on the lost look she was receiving confounded her, driving the heiress’s thoughts into a raging tornado. _If I’m wrong, then say something. If there’s a way to do this without having to risk hurting my friends, then please, inform me! I just want everyone to be happy. If we break up, we won’t be happy. I… won’t be happy. _

Jun didn’t have a direct answer to the barrage of words Tsumugi threw at her, a defiant frown the single flag of rebellion she could raise. Allowing the tension that had unwittingly built up in her arms and legs to escape her, Tsumugi sighed, the rush of uncharacteristic anger having drained her energy. She provided Jun with an apologetic bow. “My apologies, Suzuki-chan. I came to meet Ui-chan because I needed to apologize to her for worrying her, but it seems I’ve worried you too. I promise you that I have Azusa-chan’s best interests at heart. Think about it. I’m more than willing to listen if you have something to say.” A pat on the shoulder from the heiress was shaken off stubbornly by Jun, who continued to glare at Tsumugi even as she turned away one final time.

Accepting silence to be Jun’s acquiescence to the end of the conversation, Tsumugi abandoned the train platform and her way home, the trek to Yui’s house her only concern for the moment. When she had gotten sufficiently far enough away from the platform to collect her thoughts, it occurred to the heiress that Yui and the others might not have reached their respective homes yet. _Hm. I wonder if I can still catch up to Yui-chan and the others. Ah, I better not. I wouldn’t want to interrupt Yui-chan and Azusa-chan’s private time together after all. _Tsumugi’s raunchy blush contrasted her pale complexion sharply, and she called on years of noble training to calm herself. _Focus, Mugi. If there’s one thing to be learned from what just happened, it’s that you definitely need to talk to Ui-chan if this is going to work. She deserves to know what you’re trying to do. Perhaps I’ll speak to Suzuki-chan again after everything settles down later. Yes, that’s the polite thing to do. _

Though the foundation of Tsumugi’s resolve had been a commitment to avoiding regrets later on down the line, she couldn’t help but feel just a bit remorseful for how she had treated Ui and her friend over the past week. _It’s unjustifiable, no matter how important my cause is. For that, now that Yui-chan and the others are far enough along, I have to placate Ui-chan. _ Though she had initially adopted a harsh stance to ensure Ui didn’t interfere with her plan, it quickly became evident that the effect she was having was the opposite of the one intended. Reigning in the stronger impulses that overcame Tsumugi when she felt her efforts might be threatened had proven to be more difficult than she originally thought. Jun’s response and Ui’s choice to flake on her were evidence enough of this oversight.

Without time to spare, Tsumugi had to switch tactics quickly. The result was one invigorating jog through the biting cold that lead the heiress to the block adjacent to the Hirasawa household, not a Yui in sight. As she had suspected, her friends had more than enough of a head start to make it home before she could catch up, even in her haste to beat the last trains of the day. As she rounded the final corner, she was unsurprised to see Ui standing at the end of the driveway to her house in her school uniform, a pensive frown on her face. When she noticed Tsumugi, the frown vanished, a polite mask Tsumugi recognized as well as she knew her own face taking its place. The younger sister marched up to the heiress, meeting her halfway between them. “Tsumugi-senpai,” Ui coldly addressed, bowing ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, but Onee-chan is busy right now. Can I ask you to come back another time?”

Had she been dealing with another member of HTT, Tsumugi might have found a way to play around with the situation, but tact overrode her childish impulses. She put on the first genuine smile she had used on the younger girl since they had started talking about the party. “It’s fine if Yui-chan’s busy, because I came over to see you, Ui-chan. I met with Jun-chan at the station. She seemed… upset. Why didn’t you come to meet with me? If something’s wrong, I’d prefer you discuss it with me directly.” A bit of hurt crept into Tsumugi’s voice unwillingly. Given her mission, trepidation on Ui’s part was understandable, but Tsumugi never had the heart for hurting people’s feelings intentionally, even when there was no other choice, a unique trait among her family.

Ui patted the phone in her pocket, glancing out at the gradually darkening sky so she didn’t have to meet Tsumugi’s inquisitive stare. “Jun-chan contacted me. I told her not to get involved, but she was never a good listener. I was going to call you to let you know I wasn’t coming before she beat me to the punch.” The younger girl’s shoulders sagged, like a puppet losing its strings. “Look. I’m going to be honest, Tsumugi-senpai. Your behavior has been worrying me for a while. Onee-chan is changing, and I can’t help but feel like you have something to do with it. Pulling Azusa-chan away in the mornings to talk about guitar techniques was the second warning flag, and now Jun-chan’s calling and telling me you’re, um, sorry. I can’t just ignore this anymore. I have to know what you think you’re doing.” Facing the heiress fully, a sort of burning desperation reflected in Ui’s eyes.

“What I’m doing?” Tsumugi echoed curiously, having expected a more aggressive reaction. “That’s all you want to know?” _That’s what I came to tell you, _she almost burst out saying, holding herself back until she heard Ui’s response.

Nodding, Ui crossed her arms, attempting to conserve her lowering body heat. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t approve of the way you’ve been treating me and my friend, but you’re Onee-chan’s friend. I owe it to her to hear you out first.”

_Being Yui-chan’s friend is all it takes to prevent her from getting angry at someone? She really does live for Yui-chan. It’s commendable, in its own way, even though it makes what I’m trying to do much more difficult for her. _

“It’s as I’m sure Suzuki-chan has told you,” Tsumugi straightforwardly disclosed. “I want Yui-chan and Azusa-chan to come to terms with how they feel about each other. It’s the best way to keep HTT from breaking apart.”

Expecting Tsumugi’s answer didn’t properly prepare Ui for the emotions that sentence assaulted her with. “I-I… no, I don’t understand! This makes no sense! What does that have to do with you wanting to keep your band together?! Why do you have to make Onee-chan change?” She stamped a foot on the ground in uncharacteristic frustration.

“What’s going to happen if Yui-chan and Azusa-chan don’t ever discuss how they really feel about each other?” Tsumugi answered Ui’s questions with one of her own.

Startled by the idea, Ui paused to compose herself before she responded. Her eyes flickered between the heiress and several points of interest on the ground. “Think about it,” Tsumugi encouraged. “You know them just as well as I do.”

“I don’t think it matters,” Ui finally decided, though uncertainty tainted her voice. “They both care about each other. If they don’t want to broach that topic, then they won’t. They get along just fine the way things are.”

Tsumugi wanted to stamp her own foot in frustration, but she implored herself to remain calm. “You don’t understand,” she chided instead. “The idea is in both of their heads. If they keep ignoring it, it’s going to blow up in everyone’s faces. It’s been like that for years, but the thought of graduation brought it to the front of both of their minds. They need to say something now, while they’re both at least willing to discuss the topic, or it’s definitely going to cause our downfall, I’m certain of it. If our relationships are going to survive, they have to get together, or at least discuss how they really feel. Yui-chan needed a place to think and sort out her own feelings, and Azusa-chan needed encouragement to consider what Yui-chan means to her, so I’ve done what I can to provide those things for them. Although, Ricchan and Mio-chan rushed things along a little more quickly than I would have liked…”

Ui held up a hand to stop Tsumugi’s tangent, her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. “Let me get something perfectly clear. You’re alright with them not getting together as long as they at least establish where the other stands on the idea of a… relationship?”

Blushing slightly, Tsumugi intertwined her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Well, I can’t say I don’t have a preferred outcome, but ultimately, I can’t force people together, I can only help them make decisions that make them happy.”

For a painful second, Ui was mute. She placed a hand on her chin. “You know, you sound like Onee-chan when you talk like that,” the younger sister idly noted. “Weird schemes aside, I can understand why she likes you.”

The unexpected praise threw Tsumugi off harder than anything else she had dealt with over the past 24 hours. “You’re not angry?” was all she could think to ask, Ui’s behavior only becoming more and more enigmatic to her.

Locking eyes with the heiress, Ui nodded, her expression politely blank. “Perhaps I am a little angry, but you’ve made it clear that you won’t force Onee-chan into something she herself doesn’t want. I want HTT to stay together too, you know. Since she formed a band with you all, she’s never been happier, and that’s more than enough for me to suspend my trepidation, even for something like this.”

Tsumugi opened her mouth to thank Ui, but the brunette continued on, cutting off the blonde before she could start to speak. “But, more importantly, I need you to promise me you’ll stop antagonizing my friends. No more pulling Azusa-chan or Onee-chan away for private meetings about this, either. It was fine when you were helping her with her birthday present for Azusa-chan, but now that I know what’s going on, I want it to stop, because I want to trust you, as my friend as well as Onee-chan’s. Whatever happens next between them, it’s up to them, not us. That’s how it should be, okay?” Ui held out a hand invitingly.

Ui Hirasawa was an enigma to Tsumugi. She had written off the younger sister very early on as a simple girl whose life revolved around Yui Hirasawa. While this was certainly true, the fact that she couldn’t tell what was going through Ui’s mind as her hand started to tire in front of her bothered her in a way few things could. None of her responses to this situation matched the prototype Tsumugi had created from her own experiences, and it threw her for a loop. As Ui’s hand started to droop, Tsumugi’s own hand snapped back in front of her to catch it, shaking more enthusiastically than she initially meant to. _There’s no harm in agreeing to this. I’ve already done what I can for them. It’s up to Yui-chan and Azusa-chan now. _“I understand. And I’m sorry, Ui-chan, honestly. I want you to know that I understand how you feel. Feeling like you’re going to lose someone you love, for reasons beyond your control, is difficult, to say the least.”

Breaking the handshake, Ui tilted her head, a slightly guarded look showing itself. “You’re referring to your graduation in March?” she guessed.

“Yes,” Tsumugi half-lied, wishing she could tell the truth. A wild part of her wanted to spill the regret that had taunted her for years, even to an acquaintance like Ui, but years of ingrained restraint stopped her. “But I’m going to do something about that too. I won’t give up anytime soon.”

With a thoughtful nod, Ui smiled. “I see. As long as you listen to my request, I wish you luck.” Suddenly perking her ears towards something Tsumugi couldn’t hear, Ui eyed her house. “I think Onee-chan’s done with her snack. I need to make sure she starts on her homework so she has time to enjoy herself tomorrow. Did you want to see her? I feel bad, making you come all the way out here because of my own silly concerns.”

Shoving aside her questions on what Ui’s sixth sense for what her sister was doing was, Tsumugi shook her head simply. “I’d love to, but I must get home before it gets dark. I’m sure Yui-chan can wait until tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Already retreating, Ui responded with a friendly wave. “Yep! It’s a date!”

As Ui Hirasawa walked out of Tsumugi’s garden of concerns, the heiress noticed her heart was beating a bit faster than normal. _Strange. She was so… nonchalant about everything. After her lack of desire to meet with me, and everything I’ve done to appear suspicious over the past week, it makes no sense for her to let me off the hook so easily. Am I overthinking things? I suppose I’ll just have to pay careful attention to her during the party tomorrow. After that, I’ll keep my promise, Ui-chan. _

Breaking out of her stationary position, Tsumugi began to chase the bleeding sky to the train platform, thoughts of her potential tardiness and its consequences driving her forward with speed that would make Ritsu jealous. In her haste to avoid having to contact her limo driver for a ride, however, Tsumugi failed to notice a certain brunette watching her flee from her front door.

* * *

**November 12th, 11:18 PM**

_This isn’t going to help._

Without sunlight to illuminate her estate’s music room, Tsumugi was left in nearly absolute darkness. Only the moonlight, a brilliant claw carving a defiant white streak into the darkness surrounding it, allowed Tsumugi to pick her way over from the door to the lone keyboard resting in the far corner of the room. She had half hoped the trek from her private quarters to the music room to tire her out, but she hadn’t been so lucky. Rather, the stimulation only seemed to encourage her body to catch up to her racing mind. Fumbling around with the cords that brought her instrument to life, Tsumugi managed to activate the keyboard, turning the volume down as low as she could. She’d only feel worse if she managed to wake up a butler or maid on their sleeping shift. Her hands paused in the blackness as they hovered over the ivory keys. _What am I doing? I should be asleep. This isn’t going to help me fall asleep. But… I can’t stop thinking about them. It’s too worrying._

Ever since she had arrived home, an itch had been nagging at Tsumugi’s fingers, demanding that she play something, anything to express the stress that had built within her over the past week. Worse still was the distressing sense that Jun’s accusation had left with her. _Am I wrong? No, it can’t be that. I’m just nervous because I can’t afford to fail. Fine. I’ll play, not practice for a few minutes, then get to bed. I need to be rested for tomorrow. _Obeying the whims of her fingers, Tsumugi began to paint on the black and white sound canvas.

Blinking, Tsumugi took in the sight of an impossibly green field. Blue skies, having never known a cloud, encouraged a radiant sun to deliver warmth and comfort to both the grass blanketing the field and its sole occupant, who was glancing around with a passive expression. Tsumugi took in a few deep breaths, trying to let the peaceful nature of the song calm her nerves. “I need to relax. I’ve done everything I can. Things are going to be fine. I am Tsumugi. I am strong. I can do anything I set my mind to.”

Despite her words, Tsumugi couldn’t ignore the fact that she couldn’t feel the mellow breeze rustling the grass around her, that she could see the edge of the field where it faded back into the darkness that stole her vision in reality. Defeat washed over the blonde as she allowed the darkness to temporarily encapsulate her entire vision once more. For an instant, there was nothing, then Tsumugi switched tunes on the fly. Taking off in a wild sprint, Tsumugi darted in and out of different realities, searching for one that could ameliorate her weary mind. She passed crashing waterfalls so tall the water evaporated before it hit the ground, crowded streets filled with the ambiance of foot traffic, and even her own room flew by for an instant, reminding Tsumugi that she had an objective beyond seeing how fast she could change tunes on the fly. Taking a deep breath, the keyboardist stopped. Classical pieces weren’t working, which meant she’d have to try her other most familiar genre. Though she couldn’t really see her hands very well, let alone the keys to her keyboard, Tsumugi could tell she was trembling. Steeling herself, Tsumugi began to play once more.

With her new choice, Tsumugi found herself in the clubroom. As the band’s keyboardist, she was used to focusing on filling the gaps in songs where necessary, leaving the sweeping statements to be made by the guitarists, but in her spare time, she had modified a version of Fuwa Fuwa Time to be played by the keyboard alone. It wasn’t as full as the original, but the memories it evoked in the keyboardist made every minute it took to prepare valid. Glancing around the empty clubroom, Tsumugi willed herself once more to relax. “This is where I belong,” she whispered to the air.

As the memories of the room enveloped her, ghosts of Tsumugis from days spent laughing and playing with her friends began to run rampant through her conscious. Mio and Ritsu fought over who deserved the last slice of cake while Azusa fed Ton with a hidden smile gracing her lips. Yui was doodling small animals on the board, the word Listen! written in English above her. Tsumugi broke out into a smile. _It’s nice in here. But it’s not the same as the real thing. _With that thought, the four wisps of girls vanished, Yui’s doodles the only proof they were there in the first place. _This isn’t how I want to let things end. I have too many memories left to make to be reminiscing now. _

As if could somehow prove her point, Tsumugi waltzed over to the tank of the club’s turtle. Ton swam in a sort of easy pace that vaguely matched the beat of the song, his actions a dance in 3-D that couldn’t be replicated within the limits of gravity. “You wouldn’t want us to leave, would you, Ton-chan?” Tsumugi asked gently.

Ton completely agreed with everything Tsumugi said, as far as she could tell. She beamed warmly at the turtle. Though nobody else was really coming, Tsumugi took it upon herself to set out teacups and plates that couldn’t be filled anyways. _Light and fluffy time… that’s what HTT is all about. _Tsumugi’s tranquility was shattered as a biting chill blew through an open window in the clubroom. Instantly, memories of the meeting between the band’s seniors a week ago invaded, Tsumugi’s conscious. _No, stop it!_ _It already happened. It’s over. I’m fixing everything. They’re going to come with me. _

Forcing unwarranted confidence over herself, Tsumugi shut the window firmly. Almost as soon as she did, another one opened. Subconsciously, Tsumugi’s tempo sped up. Fingers flew across the keyboard as fast as the heiress rushed between the clubroom’s windows, shutting out the chilling wind before it could drag her out of safety. The teacups began to shudder and chatter insistently, demanding that Tsumugi defend them from the outside world. Ton did several concerned turns in his tank. Tsumugi could feel her own breath come out in heavier intervals as she pursued her impossible task.

“Tsumugi.”

Tsumugi payed no heed to the voice from nowhere, all of her attention devoted to shutting out the fear she had suffered over the past two weeks. The sound of her playing became louder, bouncing around the rapidly destabilizing room, shaking its foundation as its occupant desperately attempted to hold it together. Ritsu’s teacup fell from the table, its shattering personified by ten keys being struck at the same time. _This can’t happen! We’re going to change, I promise! We won’t have to split up! I won’t let it happen again!_

“Tsumugi, stop.”

Tsumugi’s fingers began to ache, being exerted well beyond their traditional limits, but she pressed on, throwing in haphazard chords to accompany her playing, filling her song with a hole in the bottom as much as possible. Right as she approached the climax, every window opened at once, freezing the heiress in place, rendering her immobile as the clubroom was torn away from her, replaced instantly by the park that had taunted her memory since the last time she was there in person. She saw Mio, a fist raised in cold rage towards Ritsu, Yui defiantly standing between them. Tsumugi screamed, throwing her entire voice at the girls in front of her, telling them that this was wrong, that everyone had made up, that they were supposed to be a family. She could feel her throat grow hoarse, her fingers beginning to cramp as she fought desperately against her own imagination. Mio’s fist descended, on an unstoppable course towards the band’s lead guitarist. _No! No! This isn’t how it happened! We made up! They gave me a chance to fix things! You can’t do this, Mio, stop!_

“KOTOBUKI!”

Light temporarily blinded the heiress, shattering the spell she had cast upon herself. Forced to attend to the burning sensation in her eyes, Tsumugi rubbed her aching hands on her face, grounding herself in reality again. When she found sight once more, she was standing in an oppressively extravagant music room in one of the buildings that made up the family estate. Though she could see, Tsumugi didn’t have to look to the door to know who was standing there. Her mind had registered the source of the voice, even if she had chosen to ignore it. “My apologies, father,” Tsumugi spoke, bowing with trained politeness.

Shoes clacked ominously throughout the room, a flawless beat that only ceased when they reached the blonde girl standing by her instrument. “You know what I’m going to say, I presume?” he asked rhetorically.

Still bowing, Tsumugi nodded, her mind blank. Her father’s shoes absorbed her entire vision, brown holes that swallowed up everything they came into contact with on the reflective surface of the floor. “Raise your head, child,” he ordered simply.

Tsumugi obeyed wordlessly. Her father’s stern expression, supposedly reserved for the people he cared about, burned away her soul. He had more lines on his face than Tsumugi remembered. His authoritative voice, the one that held the fate of economies at its whim, rumbled with the sort of strength only decades of experience could provide. “If there is one thing a Kotobuki is not, it’s wasteful. If you’re going to insist on breaking your curfew, then find a more productive use for your time than sleeping.”

From somewhere beyond Tsumugi’s awareness, the blonde’s indignation took over. “Then I suppose I am not a Kotobuki.”

A single eyebrow was raised. Watching the features on her father’s face change, even for a second, was surreal and terrifying in equal parts. It was like the David statue had decided to wink at her. “Perhaps not now, but soon, you will be. Everyone in our family has their role to play. I expect you to remember yours.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Tsumugi knew their one-sided conversation was over, her defiance no more than an interesting fact one might find on the inside of a juice lid to her father.

Watching the man exit the room, Tsumugi noted with some frustration that she was tearing up. _How long has it been since we last spoke? Four, five days? And that’s all he has to say. _Resisting the urge to scream, Tsumugi instead sank to the ground on her knees, the exhaustion she had been searching for coming at a price she hadn’t meant to pay. _But it’s been like that for years. Every time something gets in his way, he makes it disappear. I was a fool to not realize it sooner. But not this. He still won’t take music from me. It’s the only thing that kept me going, until I could meet the others, and he knows that, and yet he still didn’t do anything about it. Why, father? Why did we have to turn out like this? _

Much as her sorrows demanded further indulgence, Tsumugi knew she didn’t have long before a butler would be sent after her. Rising unsteadily, Tsumugi retreated to her room, making sure that the door was locked with the special padlock nobody else in the entire estate besides herself would be able to open. _Well, that’s not true. I told them what the combination is, they just couldn’t remember. They never even tried. _

Tsumugi’s room, the only true sanctuary in her world of extravagance and expectation, was relatively simple in its décor and atmosphere, though that feat alone had taken considerable effort on Tsumugi’s part. She changed into a nightgown idly, having lost the will to even take a shower. Collapsing onto the bed, images of her friends eased their way into Tsumugi’s mind, as they often did when stress threatened to overwhelm her. _Yui-chan, Mio-chan, Ricchan, Azusa-chan. Please, just hold on a little longer. I’m not going to make the same mistakes my family made. _

The roller coaster that was the last week for Tsumugi had stalled at the precipice of a bottomless drop, miles above the world as she knew it. Behind her, the corkscrews and loops of the track stood as evidence of all the places and people she had been running around to sort and organize for the past week. Twisting, swerving, talking to this person, apologizing to that person, dipping, diving, picking out this present, helping to make that present, and only now, on the edge of her known world, in the unique sanctuary granted by the isolation of the thinning air did she pause to breathe. The adrenaline rush pulling her along her chosen course had finally begun to ebb away, but neither the fatigue catching up to Tsumugi’s addled mind nor the uncertainty of the plunge in front of her shook her resolve. She, of everyone in the band, understood more than the rest of them that they had to change. If it was her responsibility to pull HTT into the future with her, then so be it. With a mysterious smile not even Tsumugi was even certain of the reason for, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall.


	13. Party!

**November 13th, 2:54 PM**

Today was supposed to be a great day for Azusa Nakano. Years had elapsed between the present and her last proper birthday party. Now, she had her closest friends and Sawako ready to celebrate all afternoon with her. Her lack of a party in previous years was only partially because of her parents’ single-minded pursuit of success though the elimination of frivolous things like happiness. Azusa could freely admit she hadn’t given them much pushback on the choice, even if she had wanted to. The birthday lunch she had last year with Ui and Jun was nice, but a selfish part of Azusa enjoyed the excess that came with an over-the-top party commemorating her surviving another year. As usual, Yui was quick to pick up on anything Azusa was trying to keep to herself, and thus a plan for a grand celebration was quickly organized by the Hirasawa sisters to make up for missing last year. Yes, November 13th was meant to be a breath of fresh air, a reprieve from the complicated web of emotions that had tangled up Azusa’s thoughts and actions since the cultural festival.

Somehow, the feeling of exhaustion that promised to soon overwhelm the girl as she sprinted towards the Hirasawa residence wasn’t making her feel very relaxed. “Can’t be late… can’t be late… damn you Giita… can’t be late…” Azusa uttered neurotically to herself, leaving frozen puffs of air behind her with every sharp exhale.

Though the guitar belonging to her senpai was the source of Azusa’s ire, on a more rational level she knew very well it was the fault of the girl carrying the guitar that she had to sprint to make it to her own party on time. Yui hadn’t told her to go get her guitar professionally restored and inspected for damages today. In fact, she’d likely be against it for some inane reason like nostalgia, but Azusa couldn’t help herself after witnessing first-hand the sorry state Yui was allowing her guitar to degrade to. That was even before she recalled Ui’s stories of her sister’s more unique guitar care tendencies. _For someone who loves their instrument, you really need to take better care of it, Yui-senpai. Dressing it up and sleeping with it isn’t a substitute for basic maintenance and cleaning. I’d lecture you if you were here. All the more reason to not be late again. _Feeling the weight of her bag and Yui’s guitar attempting to drag her down to the frozen sidewalk, Azusa lowered her head and soldiered onward, determined not to be tardy for the second out-of-school meeting in a row.

Battling the burning sensation in her legs and freezing numbness everywhere else for nearly half an hour wasn’t Azusa’s idea of a decent birthday party, but she couldn’t exactly ask for a car ride from parents that weren’t around. The sky transformed from a pale blue into a deep grey as she ran, promising rain or even snow in the immediate future. Against the deafening protests of her muscles, Azusa spurred herself on with energy she didn’t have. _I can’t get wet. Getting wet now will only damage Yui-senpai’s guitar. This is probably going to be the only birthday I get to spend with all of them, so I have to make this count, make everything perfect. So what if the guitar place took too long and now I have to bring Yui-senpai her guitar back a day early so I don’t end up being late again? Who cares about how strange everyone’s been acting for the last week, how I have no idea how I even feel, how I can’t do anything to solve the real problem? Everything will be fine, as long as I’m not late. Don’t be late! _The guitarist was so obsessed with reaching her destination on time that she nearly blew right past it, and she had to slow herself down physically and mentally in order to rejoin reality in front of the Hirasawa residence.

As she waited for her breathing to normalize, Azusa noticed just how peaceful the atmosphere was. Despite the ominous cloud cover and punishing cold, birds could be heard chirping in the background, a gentle breeze playing a supportive rhythm part to the swaying of the foliage growing around one side of Yui’s house. It was as if the scenery wasn’t aware of the dangers posed by the falling temperatures or gathering storm clouds. Doing her best not to double over, Azusa attempted to lean on the stone wall surrounding the house to catch her breath, only to pull back with a yelp at the temperature her hand was met with. The stone was far colder than the air around it, a cruel surprise given the already bone-chilling weather. With nothing else readily available to give her body the rest it demanded, Azusa resolved to get inside as soon as possible, and she half-sprinted, half-staggered to the entrance. “That sucked, but it’s over,” Azusa reassured herself as she rapped on the front door with brittle knuckles. “Remember what you promised yourself. No more negativity today. No dealing with changes, rumors, clubs ending, Yui-senpai in general, none of it. Just be their friend. For the club.”

As soon as Azusa completed her pep talk, Ui gracefully opened the door, beaming politely at her friend. “Ah, Azusa-chan, welcome, happy birthday! Or, is it belated birthday? I guess it wouldn’t be, because we’re celebrating- uh, are you alright? You look exhausted.” Ui’s greeting melted away as she took in the sorry state of her friend.

Suddenly aware of her own state of duress, Azusa immediately set about correcting what imperfections in her appearance she could detect. The last thing she needed was her senpais, especially Yui, worrying over her again. Fortunately, her light red hoodie and blue jeans appeared to effectively cover up all signs of exertion sans the sweat on her brow and the pink tint her face had taken on from both the cold weather and her impromptu run. Wearing her hair down also circumvented a potentially disastrous situation where her pigtails could have come undone during her travels. Memories of having to stop and fix her hair frantically on the way to her meeting on the fifth still haunted her idle moments. Ui watched, slightly bemused, as Azusa struggled to fix her appearance, wiping away sweat desperately with tissues from her school bag while trying to smooth out her uncooperative hair. “I didn’t mean you looked bad, Azusa-chan. We have towels and such inside if you’d like to clean up in front of a mirror, though. Oh, you brought Giita with you? I’m sure Onee-chan will appreciate that.”

Freezing in place, Azusa’s eyes widened as she caught the mistake Ui didn’t know she made. Immediately, she ceased her self-care and slung the guitar bag hastily from her back. Without any time to spare, she held the case out as far from her body as possible towards the stairs leading up to the second floor of the house. Ui stared at the offering, wondering what had gotten into her friend, only to nearly be run over by her sister as she stampeded down the stairs to retrieve her beloved guitar. “GIITA! My love!” Yui cried out, already bawling messily. “I’ll never leave you again!” The older brunette nuzzled her instrument through its case, everything and everyone around her forgotten in the tender moment of reunion.

One of Azusa’s eyebrows twitched involuntarily. She wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or not that Yui was completely ignoring her existence right now. The kouhai didn’t get the chance to decide before Yui suddenly stiffened, noticing the large amounts of cold air Azusa was letting in. Dressed only in a light blue shirt with matching shorts, the wintry November air buffeted the already climate sensitive girl, and she growled at the open door like an angry dog before retreating back up the stairs. Azusa rolled her eyes while Ui giggled, the cold apparently not bothering her despite having only a similar shirt and shorts combo with a green apron over it for protection. “Well, as you can see, Onee-chan is here. Mugi-senpai and Sawako-sensei have arrived as well. Please, come in!”

Remembering she was about to die of frostbite, Azusa took Ui up on her offer eagerly. As she abandoned her sneakers by the door, Ui took her remaining bag for her, the hostess going on about the food she had prepared and the games she wanted to play with everyone. It reminded Azusa a bit of Yui, though Ui’s babbling still carried an air of sophistication and professionalism that her sister distinctly lacked. “I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Azusa noted in admiration, trying not to drool at the enticing scents drifting from the kitchen upstairs. “We all really appreciate it. What can I do to help you get things ready?”

Ui shook her head politely. “Just enjoy yourself, Azusa-chan. Mugi-senpai and I have everything fully under control.” As if it proved her point, Ui led the junior up the stairs to the second floor of the Hirasawa household, Azusa slightly reluctantly trailing behind her friend.

“If you insist. Please don’t hesitate to ask for help, Ui-chan. I don’t want to impose,” Azusa offered to Ui’s understanding smile, second thoughts about being spoiled already polluting her mind as she took in the scene on the second floor.

The layout of Yui’s house was always a bit strange to Azusa, but she supposed it made sense if you considered the limited space the builders had to work with. Since the first floor of the house was mostly taken up by the garage and bookshelves for some reason, the second floor contained the living room, kitchen, and master bedroom (So she had heard) all by itself, with the third and final floor being reserved for Yui and Ui’s rooms and bathrooms. The living room was currently occupied by the club’s advisor, sitting under a kotatsu in her yellow teaching dress while glaring daggers at the deck of fancy-looking playing cards on the table. Azusa vaguely remembered Yui mentioning once during a previous visit that they were one of the things their parents had brought back from one of their numerous overseas trips. It also occurred to Azusa that she had never actually met Yui’s parents. _Huh. I’ve met Ritsu-senpai and Mio-senpai’s parents. None of them have met my parents, which is a very good thing. It’d be interesting to learn more about how Yui-senpai became, well, whatever Yui-senpai is though. _Said Yui-senpai was intimately hugging her guitar on the faded green couch that wrapped around half of the living room, the case discarded near the stairs. Ui set Azusa’s bag down next to the empty guitar case before scurrying back to the kitchen. Seconds later, Tsumugi poked her head out from where Ui disappeared, a light green apron matching Ui’s covering the long red dress she had worn impractically for the weather. _Then again, she probably didn’t have to walk here, so she could afford to dress less heavily. But even with that, this wasn’t supposed to be a fancy event, I don’t think. Maybe I just don’t wear dresses enough… _Azusa looked down at her more casual clothes, feeling inadequate somehow.

“Hello, Azusa-chan! Your hair looks nice today! Ui-chan and I are still getting some food ready, but we’ll be done before long. Why don’t you play something with Yui-chan and Sawako-sensei until then?” The blonde appeared to be in a much more chipper mood than usual, but Azusa wrote it off as excitement for the party.

Concealing a small blush over the compliment, Azusa smiled at the keyboardist. “I will, thank you. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Azusa bowed gratefully to her senpai before making a beeline for the kotatsu, her need for warmth finally overwhelming her instincts of common courtesy.

As soon as her weary legs inserted themselves into the blanket flowing out of the table, an involuntary sigh of blissful content escaped the junior. Feeling seeped back into her body, and she flexed her thawing fingers in satisfaction as her body began to shake off the effects of her sprint. Whether or not her senpais were disappointed in her punctuality was suddenly a far less pressing issue than spending as much time in the current moment as possible.

“Giita’s shiny?” Yui gasped with wonder from the couch, breaking Azusa’s reveling in her recovering. “Azu-nyan, Azu-nyan, Giita is shiny!” Though she had been cuddling her instrument for several minutes, it had only apparently just now occurred to Yui that something about her guitar’s appearance was different.

Shaking her head to herself while her body continued to thaw, Azusa steeled her nerve for her senpai’s criticism. “I’m sorry to do it without asking first, but yes, I had your guitar professionally cleaned and inspected, senpai. Ui-chan’s stories inspired me to make sure you weren’t playing with a defective instrument.” From the kitchen, a shout of approval came from Ui, increasing the sureness in Azusa’s tone. “If you really love Giita, you need to take better care of it. Basic maintenance and cleaning is critical to ensuring you get a full sound from your instrument.”

Yui took in Giita’s new look wordlessly, her own reflection staring back at her in the deep red body of the Les Paul. Strangely, the faraway look appeared in her senpai’s eyes for an instant as she switched her gaze between Azusa and her guitar, but it was gone before Azusa could be certain. “Thank you, Azu-nyan,” Yui whispered, her tone so sincere that Azusa couldn’t believe her senpai wasn’t crying tears of joy. “You’re shiny too.”

Unsure of what to say in the face of Yui’s unusual reaction, Azusa allowed Sawako to butt into the conversation. “Damn it, enough about the damn guitar! One more game, Yui! Now! That’s an order!” The teacher thrust her finger combatively at the guitarist, enraged to the point that she was radiating more heat than the kotatsu she was sitting under.

The senior glanced up from her intimate exchange with her instrument on the couch, her self-induced trance shattered. “Eh? But we’ve only been playing cards since you got here. Besides, Azu-nyan’s here now! Let’s do something we can all do!” Yui gingerly set Giita up on the couch to watch, giving it a pat on the head before taking a seat as close as possible to Azusa under the kotatsu.

Resisting the urge to remove herself from Yui’s hug radius, Azusa focused instead on the annoying teacher in front of her. _As far as invitees to a birthday party go, you’re not exactly on the top of my list, Sawako-sensei. I’d much rather have Jun-chan here. I hope her family dinner goes well. It’s a shame she couldn’t come, but at least we got to hang out a couple days ago. _Recalling her afternoon with the frizzy-haired bassist only made her current absence more noticeable. _She’s another reason I have to enjoy myself now. If I can make up with her, I can do anything._ _I hope I’m not still dragging her or Ui-chan down like the others… No, enough, damn it! Enjoy yourself! You aren’t thinking about this today! _Slapping herself mentally, Azusa forced a grin onto her face, which probably would have looked ridiculous to Yui or Sawako if they had noticed.

Sawako puffed her chest out confrontationally. “No way, you don’t get to scam me out of three homework grades and just walk away because birthday girl showed up!” Snatching up the cards from the table, the teacher waved them in front of Yui dangerously. “Double or nothing, come on!”

Even Azusa could tell that Yui was getting irritated as her senpai pouted at Sawako’s demand. “Sawa-chan, you were the one who started betting things. I just wanted to play for fun… I knew you would get mad.” Gingerly pushing aside Sawako’s invitation to duel, Yui stood up and made her way over to Azusa’s bag, which Ui had deposited by the stairs. “You brought some games for us like you said you would, right, Azu-nyan?

Tearing her gaze away from the fuming teacher, Azusa nodded quietly at her senpai, giving Yui permission to ruffle through her kouhai’s bag for entertainment. _I’m so lost._ _What in the world happened before I got here? Yui-senpai can be difficult to deal with sometimes, but Sawako-sensei looks like she’s about to explode. _“Yamanaka-sensei, I warned you that Onee-chan is really good at that game, didn’t I?” Ui’s voice chided from the kitchen over the noise of food being prepared.

Azusa’s interest was piqued. This was the first she had heard of Yui’s prodigal ability at something other than guitar. As far as she knew, the only other things Yui was good at were all related to eating and sleeping, usually in that order. She had played cards with her senpai before, but from the sound of things, Sawako was describing a different sort of game that involved betting, a skill she knew enough about to know she had no aptitude for it, which meant Yui definitely shouldn’t. “She could draw a stick figure and you’d call it the Mona Lisa!” Sawako yelled back angrily. “Besides, nobody is lucky enough to win this many times in a row! You’re using weighted cards, Yui, admit it!”

Picking up a forgotten card on the kotatsu, Azusa frowned. “How would that help?” she asked, befuddled by the accusation.

“That’s beside the point! She’s too lucky to not be cheating!” Sawako pressed, still trying to burn a hole through the carefree Yui with her gaze.

“It’s not luck, Sawa-chan,” Yui idly explained, already disinterested in the conversation as she continued her search. “Your poker face is just really bad.”

Sawako blanched. “W-why you… I’ll have you know I’m rather proficient at-“ the teacher cut herself off abruptly, giving Azusa a sidelong glance. “Never mind. My point is you’re impossible. Let’s play something else.”

Raising an eyebrow that was ignored, Azusa frowned at her senpai’s teacher_. What, does she think I’d snitch on her for illegal gambling? I mean, she’s right, but it’s still kind of rude. _Yui took Sawako’s accusation in stride, her eyes refocusing on Azusa. “Azu-nyan, you brought the Life game! I was wondering when you were gonna bring that back!” Spinning around in a circle with the game in one hand, Yui nearly sent the game pieces flying everywhere as she reveled in her own selection.

“Mou, Yui-senpai, you told me to keep it because I told you I don’t have any board games,” Azusa defended indignantly, though Yui’s behavior was finally convincing her to relax a little.

Gleefully, Yui skipped back to the kotatsu, barely intact game in hand. “Eheh, I know. But the point of having a game is playing it with other people, ne?”

Azusa sighed. Less than five minutes in, and her senpai’s antics had already drained most of her energy for the week. _First Giita, then Sawako-sensei, now this. It’s a wonder Ui-chan has time to breathe with her around. _Yui dumped the colorful box onto the kotatsu table unceremoniously, covering up the cards Sawako had allowed to scatter over the table. Still absorbed in self-loathing, Sawako barely reacted to the choice. As Azusa struggled to recall the rules of the game, her sixth sense detected a tell-tale shift in her senpai’s momentum. _Here she comes. _Though it was obvious what Yui’s next action was going to be, Azusa didn’t have the maneuverability to dodge the incoming hug without sacrificing her currently optimal position for gathering warmth, which meant that force was her only option.

“Yui-senpai, no,” Azusa ordered, holding up a hand to catch Yui’s head before she could reach her target. “I’m not in the mood for hugs right now.”

To Azusa’s shock, her hand never met Yui’s head. Blinking, she realized that Yui had stopped herself short at Azusa’s words. Even Sawako found the response strange, giving the two a curious look behind her spectacles. For the briefest of instants, time stood frozen as Yui stared straight through her kouhai, her eyes a puzzle that was missing the pieces Azusa needed to solve it. Azusa was unable to move, caught helplessly in her senpai’s enigmatic gaze until she deigned to release the kouhai. From the kitchen, Ui called out that the food was almost ready, and time began to move again as Yui turned her head towards the kitchen. “Okay, Azu-nyan,” Yui agreed, sitting down next to her kouhai under the kotatsu and yanking parts out of the game box like nothing had happened.

Azusa stared at her hand as Yui started wondering aloud how to play the game. Careful inspection revealed that she hadn’t in fact, developed a magical ability to force people away with her hands and willpower alone. The current situation was therefore unprecedented. Never, never had words alone been enough to prevent Yui from hugging Azusa once she had committed to one. Despite her promises, to herself and to her friends, Azusa’s thoughts drifted into anxious territory. _What just happened? Is she taking what I said to heart? But I didn’t tell her to stop hugging me, even if I probably should have. Maybe someone else said something to her, but who? No, that doesn’t check out either. I’m overthinking this. It has to be a fluke. I’m sure she’ll hug me again within an hour. It’s a fluke. _

“What’s a fluke?” Yui asked, pausing in her distribution of game tokens to the 3 players. “I don’t think that’s part of this game, Azu-nyan. Is your brain still warming up? It’s really cold out there.”

Had Yui not slung that accusation with all the innocence of a newborn child, Azusa would have been far more irate. As it stood, she could only accept Yui’s reasoning to cover for the accidental voicing of her thoughts. “Yes, the walk was a bit more difficult than I anticipated,” Azusa truthfully answered, praising whoever invented the kotatsu a thousand times over in her head.

Yui nodded sagely. “Then I promise to make sure you get a ride home. It’s the least I can do for the birthday Azu-nyan!” The cheesy grin Yui gave her kouhai did little to convince Azusa that Yui could follow up on that promise.

A knock on the door, no doubt from the party’s remaining invitees, interrupted Azusa’s attempt at a modest reply. Sensing a way to recollect her thoughts and test her recovering body, Azusa rose, immediately wishing she hadn’t. Despite what she thought, her legs very much weren’t ready to work for her, but Azusa wasn’t about to show that, and she stood up firmly before anyone could notice her struggle. “I got it,” she called out to Ui, knowing nobody else was likely to even try to answer the door.

“You sure?” Ui asked, appearing from the kitchen. “We’re almost done in here, so I don’t mind-“

“It’s fine,” Azusa reassured too quickly. “Let me help, even just a little.”

A knowing smile appeared on Ui after a brief hesitation. Without a word, she returned to the kitchen, her action giving Azusa her blessing to continue. Yui waved her kohai off jovially while Azusa made her way down the stairs, thanking Ui in her head before her thoughts turned to her task. Though Mio and Ritsu were late, a few minutes of difference was more than acceptable to the kouhai given the unforgiving weather outside. It then occurred to Azusa that she was going to have to open the door to let her senpais in. Suddenly realizing where she was going made every step she took away from the kotatsu felt like more and more of a mistake. _Why did I decide to get the door again? Oh right, to gather my thoughts. But the point of today was to not try to think too hard about anything. I’m here to enjoy myself, and that’s all I need to focus on. I’m Azusa Nakano, of HTT. That’s all I need to be. I don’t need to figure out the rest today. There, thoughts sorted, plan made, now open the damn door so you can get back to that kotatsu._

Tightening her nerve to face winter once more, Azusa pulled the door open to take in the sight of her two remaining senpais. Mio and Ritsu had taken their preparation for winter one step further than their kouhai, with Mio wearing a green winter coat with fur lining over a purple hoodie and dark colored jeans. Ritsu went with a more rugged looking grey overcoat that protected a blue striped hoodie and grey jeans, though her shivering suggested the inefficiency of her garb. “Azusa-chan, hello!” Mio greeted kindly. “Sorry we’re a bit late. I hope you’re enjoying your party.”

“It’s not just for me,” Azusa quickly deflected, making way for her senpais to enter the house as soon as possible. “We’re celebrating our successful performance at the cultural festival too, aren’t we?”

“Eh, that was forever ago,” Ritsu waved off, removing her coat and shoes carelessly while Azusa shut the cold out firmly. “Right now is what matters, and right now, we’re here to celebrate a certain kouhai’s birthday with cake and games and cake, with some cake if we have time.”

Mio nodded in agreement with the first part of Ritsu’s statement as she carefully stashed both girl’s discarded clothing with their counterparts near the door. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of occasions to celebrate our band in the future,” she confidently asserted. “No reason to confound things today.”

Azusa blushed at the attention being thrust upon her. Even if this was what she wanted, it didn’t make the feeling of being fussed over any less foreign to the junior. Where Mio got her certainty from was a question Azusa desperately wanted to ask, but Ritsu was already dragging the two black-haired girls up the stairs before Azusa could so much as think about starting a conversation. “The great Ritsu has arrived!” Ritsu declared, barging into the living room with two black-haired girls in tow. “You may begin partying now.”

Yui looked up enthusiastically from messing around with the game pieces instead of getting the game ready to play. “Ricchan, Mio-chan, hello! Good timing! You can play Life with us!”

Ritsu stared with fond nostalgia at the game on the kotatsu while Mio set down the girls’ bags near Azusa’s own bag. “Ah, I remember this old thing. Never thought anyone would be foolish enough to challenge me again after last time. Well, if you’re all desperate to lose, who am I to deny you?”

“Have you been practicing?” Ui grimly asked with a cheerful smile on her face. The younger brunette emerged from the kitchen with a tray of small sandwiches for the group. Tsumugi followed just behind her, a platter of fruit with a suspiciously similar composition to the one Azusa had served Yui last week in her hands.

Ritsu got over the unnerving feeling that assaulted her at Ui’s challenge almost immediately. “Of course not! That’s not how winning happens! If I just go with my gut, everything will work out fine, because my gut is never wrong!” As some strange form of proof, Ritsu slapped her stomach, which barely made a noise because of her hoodie.

“And you wonder why we never sound good in practices,” Mio retorted, taking a seat under the kotatsu on the side closest to the second-floor balcony entrance.

As Ritsu plopped down across from her childhood friend, Ui and Tsumugi set down their platters around Yui’s game preparations. “Well, I look forward to the games,” Ui responded kindly. “Let me get the last tray of food, then we can play, since everyone’s here. I hope you’re all hungry!”

Tsumugi, having completed her self-assigned tasks, sat down next to Mio, the two greeting each other fondly. Ritsu eyed her numerous rivals, the challenge in her eyes met with mixes of apathy and confusion. “Prepare to lose, friends,” Ritsu boldly asserted, before noticing the sandwiches. “… Later. Food first.”

Sawako, still not entirely recovered from Yui’s beatdown, only barely acknowledged Mio and Ritsu’s existence as everyone settled in. Azusa reclaimed her own place next to Yui, a feeling akin to relief washing over her. Though she hadn’t noticed it before, some hidden part of her had been holding her breath, as if she thought her friends weren’t going to show up. _Mou, am I that starved for attention? I’m the one who keeps trying to prevent them from making this a big deal. What is wrong with me? Whatever. Think about anything else. Happy things. Guitar. My friends. Yui-senpai, when she isn’t being annoying. _

Settling herself in once more, a semblance of a feeling resembling peace brewed inside Azusa amidst the chaos that quickly started whenever Yui and Ritsu got involved in the same game. Things had started off cordially enough, but the second either Yui or Ritsu started falling too far behind, the game suddenly had several house rules that magically prevented them from losing their chance to win. Tsumugi and Ui were unbothered by this, though Azusa privately doubted either cared too much about the outcome of the game. Sawako was in her own little world that only included herself and whatever sort of food was in her hands, leaving Azusa to exchange several exasperated glances with Mio as the game’s structure devolved into lunacy. _But what did you expect? _Mio’s eyes asked with every private look they shared. _They’re our idiots. We knew what we were getting into. _

Azusa found herself nodding along in agreement with the imaginary conversation she was having. _Yes, they’re our bandmates. Nobody else in the world is quite like they are. That’s one thing that won’t ever change. _The thought was a solitary source of comfort in Azusa’s struggle to push away her more malicious musings.

Without a clock to turn to, Azusa only noticed the change in time when the sun appeared in the glass doors leading to the balcony. Though details of the passing hour hand evaded her, Azusa could recall sensations, the satisfying taste of Ui’s cooking, the sound of everyone’s laughter or outrage as the balance of their game tilted perilously back and forth, the heat that encapsulated her body from the kotatsu, keeping her safe from thought. Without a better way to describe it, Azusa could only cornily call the time light and fluffy, the same sort of feeling HTT sought to capture in much of their music. As soon as she was able to put a name to her feeling, however, she could feel every second ticking away at the time she was enjoying that much more heavily. Despite her best efforts, the fact that she couldn’t enjoy things the way they currently were forever fought to dominate her conscious thoughts. _But this doesn’t have to be the end, right? Whether I feel like this around others is up to me. It’s up to me to be happy. I don’t need them to be happy, even though they make me happy. Yeah, that’s it. I’m going to be fine without them. No issues at all. _Gradually, Azusa’s thoughts grew in positivity as she continued to play with her senpais. They might not make it to Budokan any time soon, but she was pretty sure where she was right now was a hell of a lot better than any stage in the world.

By being the only person taking the game truly seriously around Ritsu and Yui’s inane cheating methods, Azusa barely managed to squeak out a win in a shocking final turn comeback. The image of Yui nearly falling over in surprise when Azusa let out an incredibly uncharacteristic victory yell right next to her senpai was etched into her memory more firmly than any photograph could be. Azusa had been mortified at her own behavior right up until everyone started laughing and congratulating her. Though she was still thoroughly embarrassed, Yui’s easy smile and the encouragement of the others assuaged her tension quickly. With the game concluded and the food eaten, Tsumugi and Ui excused themselves to prepare for the main event. Despite Azusa’s continued protests that the party was for everyone, Yui’s placing of a blue and red paper crown she made herself on her kouhai’s head and the immaculate handwriting in frosting of ‘Happy Birthday Azu-nyan’ in perfect English on the cake Ui brought in from the kitchen begged to differ. As her friends sang happy birthday to her with varying degrees of professionalism, Azusa felt her attention pulled away from her friends by the cake as Ui set it down over the now cleared off kotatsu table. When she first saw the giant sweet, Azusa couldn’t help but gape a little. She had been impressed by the cake Tsumugi had brought in for her on her actual birthday, but that paled in comparison to the beast in front of her. The cake had two layers, and was draped in a smattering of various colors of icing that twisted and turned in winding helix patterns. The culmination of this intricate dance of various colors and textures on the cake’s top was a rainbow with small black cats parading around in an adorable fashion. The sight of the cake was almost as breathtaking as the thud it made when Ui set it down. Yui’s eyes lit up like searchlights with all the enthusiasm Azusa was repressing via years of practiced self-control. “Did you make this, Ui?” she asked with wonder as the singing died down.

Ui shook her head. “Oh no, I just helped decorate it. Mugi-senpai did most of the work with ordering the cake and all.”

Tsumugi blushed while serving a fresh round of tea to the table as everyone looked at her. “Well, I wanted today to be special, and I felt bad that we didn’t get to celebrate your birthday last year, so I thought a second cake layer could make up for it.”

“You got her a cake two days ago,” Ritsu muttered, only to yelp as Yui of all people smacked her on the head.

“There’s never enough cake in the world, Ricchan!” Yui insisted, eyeing the prize hungrily.

Rubbing her head, Ritsu came to a similar epiphany. “Good point, what the hell am I saying? Let’s eat this sucker!”

Mio held up a hand that was nearly blocked by the cake’s mere presence. “Wait, baka. Let Azusa-chan cut the cake first. It’s her birthday.”

“Sure, sure, we have to cut the cake to eat the cake, who cares who does it, let’s just get this show on the road, yeah?” Ritsu impatiently insisted, Yui and Sawako nodding along in agreement.

While Azusa glared condescendingly at the club president, Ui provided her friend with a cake knife. The weight of the weapon she was supposed to carve up the beauty in front of her with felt fundamentally wrong to her. Even if it was the reason the cake was created, eating it somehow came off as an insult to the cake’s aesthetic appeal. Noticing the eyes of everyone on her only made Azusa feel more self-conscious. The need to do what everyone expected her to do was overwhelming, but Azusa’s mouth reacted before her arms could. “I really appreciate all the trouble all of you went through on my behalf.” Azusa announced, thinking on the fly. “It means a lot to me, but I really want to celebrate all of our successes over the past few years too.” She allowed the knife to lower for a moment as she collected her thoughts.

“Is this going somewhere?” Ritsu rudely asked, stretching from her seated position. “Somewhere besides your knife going into the cake, I mean. Because if it isn’t, can we skip to the part where we get cake?”

Sawako took her turn to smack Ritsu, apparently not as invested in getting cake as soon as possible as the club president was. “Be quiet. Let your kouhai talk.”

Nodding thankfully to Sawako, something she didn’t think she’d ever do, Azusa continued. “I wouldn’t be who I am without all of you. I know I take everything too seriously sometimes, and I might not fit in perfectly with all of you, but I’m grateful for my time here nonetheless.”

“What are you talking about, Azu-nyan?” Yui interrupted. “You’ll always be just as much a member of HTT as any of us. Nothing is going to change that, ne?”

“Indeed,” Tsumugi immediately seconded. “You belong with us. You shouldn’t ever worry about fitting in.”

“HTT has five members,” Mio simply added, with Ritsu nodding distractedly in agreement while rubbing her head.

“Life has been more fun with you and the others in it, for both me and Onee-chan,” Ui supported.

Feeling tears beginning to well up in her eyes, Azusa moved to cut the cake before she lost the ability to hold the knife properly. _This is the group that’s leaving me behind next year. There’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing to do except enjoy this moment._

That thought in mind, Azusa cut the cake to the overwhelmingly positive cheers of Yui and Ritsu that were bittersweet to Azusa’s ears. Once everyone had had their fill of one of the most delicious cakes Azusa had ever had, which was saying something given the club’s gross amounts of sweets ingested, Ui announced that it was time for presents. As everyone stood up to retrieve their gifts, Azusa found herself sitting awkwardly next to Yui at the table, feeling like there was something she should be doing when there wasn’t. _Oh yeah, presents are part of this whole thing too. Mou, this is embarrassing. Maybe I do prefer smaller celebrations. Next year, I’ll just do lunch again. Oh well, at least everyone else is having fun with it. I suppose I am to. Why isn’t Yui-senpai moving?_

Waiting for the others to return, it became painfully obvious that Yui wasn’t planning on getting up, instead staring at the cake next to Azusa, a distant expression increasing the short distance between the two girls. Though she hadn’t been expecting anything in the first place, a bit of hurt still made its way into Azusa’s voice when she confronted her senpai on the matter. “Yui-senpai, did you not get anything?” she asked carefully, not wanting to come off as rude.

Switching her stare to focus on her kouhai, Yui covered her mouth in mock indignation, nearly spilling her tea in the process. “Of course I did, Azu-nyan! I just want it to be a surprise since I well, couldn’t wrap it. I’ll get your gift once the others do their gifts.”

Unsure of what that meant, Azusa’s attention was drawn away by the others returning before she could question her senpai. The first few gifts Azusa received were wonderful. Mio had gotten her some new sheet music, Tsumugi bought her an oversized stuffed cat that was extremely cute, though Azusa had to put it away before Yui or Ritsu poked fun at her for fawning over it. Feeling emboldened by two success, Azusa made the mistake of opening Sawako’s present next. Carefully tearing away the wrapping paper with surgical precision, bright curiosity rapidly melted into disbelief as Azusa pulled out a homemade maid outfit from the package. Searching desperately for some sort of sign that this was a joke, Azusa gave up when she noticed Sawako’s giddy grin telling her exactly how serious the teacher was. “Isn’t it cute?” she cooed. “I just know you’ll look great in it!” Mio began to noticeably edge herself away from Sawako and the maid outfit, her eyes and mind fixed on a point only she could see.

“Yeah, this isn’t happening,” Azusa denied outright, breaking her advisor’s heart as she placed the outfit back in its box.

A hand was raised next to Ritsu. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Ui offered, staring at the outfit longingly.

Tilting her head, Azusa frowned. “You like this stuff?” Azusa asked suspiciously. She hadn’t pegged Ui as one for frivolous pastimes like cosplaying.

Ui rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Ah, well, you see, I’ve always wondered if maid outfits actually make cleaning easier,” she whispered in embarrassment. “But it’s, um, an embarrassing idea, so I’ve never had the courage to buy one.”

“You should have spoken up sooner!” Yui declared, placing a hand wisely on her sister’s shoulder. “Sawa-chan makes us dress up all the time! I could have brought a maid outfit home for you forever ago!”

Long before Yui was done speaking, Sawako was shaking her head. “No you couldn’t have. It takes work to make these things, you know. You’d better believe I’d notice if you stole my stuff.”

“I believe we have some spare maid uniforms at home,” Tsumugi thought aloud. “I doubt they’d be missed if I borrowed one or two of them.”

Ui looked tempted by the proposition, but shook her head. “That’s alright. I wouldn’t want to trouble anyone with an unusual request like this.”

Eager for any excuse to get rid of the costume, Azusa shrugged and tossed the maid outfit box to Ui. “Well, knock yourself out. I certainly don’t want it.”

Sawako pouted, crossing her arms like she wasn’t the oldest person in the room while Tsumugi smiled. “I’m sure it will look great on you, Ui-chan,” she encouraged.

Ui nodded wordlessly, too focused on taking in the details of the outfit to respond. Yui grinned at her little sister’s interest, patting the girl on the head encouragingly. Azusa filed the pang that rang out in her chest from witnessing the scene as frustration over Sawako’s thoughtless gift and moved on, taking up the last present on the table, Ui’s. Hopes for a normal present were dashed mercilessly when Azusa opened the box to reveal several pairs of cat ears of varying colors. A vein bulged from Azusa’s head as she took in the sight of the infernal source of her nickname. “Ui-chan, what’s this?” she asked, her voice absolutely level.

Ui noticed that her present was being opened, and that her friend was anything but satisfied. “Oh, uh… I wanted to get something that Onee-chan said you liked, and she said you liked that, and I, uh, well…” Ui trailed off, the maid outfit getting more and more crumpled in her hands with every word. “I’m sorry! I thought you’d like them!”

Azusa glared at Yui, who had found something captivating to look at on the switched off television. “Did you influence Ui-chan’s gift choice?” Azusa accused, already suspecting a certain answer.

An attempt at nonchalant whistling on Yui’s part failed miserably. “You can’t prove anything,” Yui responded instead, refusing to meet Azusa’s scrutinizing stare.

Mio sighed, though Azusa could tell she was grateful to not be the target of the strange accessories. “Come on, Yui-chan. If you want her to wear cat ears, just ask her instead of making your sister buy her some. Better yet, buy them as your own gift.”

Yui pouted, slumping over in her seat. “But I don’t have any money…” she whined, glumly staring at nothing.

“I don’t want to wear cat ears,” Azusa indignantly retorted, blind to her senpai’s plight. “Ever.”

“You wanna bet on that?” Ritsu snarked. “I have plenty of evidence that suggests otherwise-“

“We’re moving on!” the kouhai declared, now ready to finish her painful gift session as soon as possible.

This task quickly became impossible when Azusa realized that the kotatsu was devoid of new presents. She stared questioningly at Yui and Ritsu. The two girls blinked back uncomprehendingly until Ui placed a hand on Yui’s shoulder and Mio slapped Ritsu on the back of the head. “Oh, right,” both girls said at the same time.

Yui stood up, pulling away from Azusa and the others. “I’ll go get my present. Ricchan, go ahead and give Azu-nyan your present!”

Ritsu nodded casually. For a Ritsu, the girl had been relatively calm for most of the afternoon, but not to the point that Azusa felt like something was bothering the drummer. _Perhaps she’s just tired. Not to mention that grin of hers is back. _

“Actually, it’s a good thing she left for this,” Ritsu commented, fishing around in her jacket pocket for something. “It’d make things weird if I had to explain it with her around. Think fast!” Ritsu tossed a small object at her kouhai across the table.

Catching the device, Azusa dropped it immediately when she recognized what she had been given. “The joy buzzer?” she asked incredulously, more shocked than she would have been if it had actually shocked her.

“How did you get that back?” Sawako darkly questioned, sitting up straight for the first time since cake had been served. “I know I confiscated that.”

Placing her hands behind her head, Ritsu smirked triumphantly. “A magician never reveals her secrets,” the drummer vaguely explained. “And in any case, that’s my present for you, Nakano, so I technically still don’t have it, so there’s no issue, Sawa-chan. Now, before you get angry or give it back, let me explain. You’re constantly complaining about Yui’s hugs, so I thought you could use a painless deterrent. We all know Yui has a hard time with the no word. You can thank me later, at your earliest convenience.”

Azusa blinked in disbelief. “You’re suggesting I shock her then. My friend. You want me to shock her for trying to hug me.” The words felt no more right when she gave them voice.

“Now, see, it sounds bad when you put it like that. I told you it doesn’t hurt,” Ritsu waved off, maintaining her confidence. “Besides, it’s just for emergencies, and I tested it myself on Sawa-chan. The last thing I want is for one of you to actually get hurt because of a hug that happens at the wrong time. You see where I’m coming from?”

Remembering the incident, Sawako proceeded to start shouting at Ritsu all over again. The teacher began pulling harshly at her student’s cheeks while Tsumugi and Mio smiled complacently, though Tsumugi was eyeing the joy buzzer with some apprehension. The worst part of Ritsu’s claim was that Azusa had an inkling of where Ritsu was coming from. _She must think that Yui got hurt a few days ago because she tried to hug me and I shoved her or something. I mean, that’s not 100% inaccurate, at least the part about me shoving her. But correcting her would only get them to ask more questions. Maybe I should just accept it and get rid of it later._

“I object to this,” Tsumugi spoke up, raising her hand in the air once Sawako was done berating Ritsu. “Friends don’t shock friends.” The simple logic was enough for everyone at the table to take Tsumugi’s side except for Ritsu.

“No, friends smack friends,” Ritsu countered, throwing a knowing look to Mio.

Mio sighed. “Don’t equate that to this like you’re some saint. In any case, it’s not my call, it’s Azusa-chan’s. As long as it doesn’t hurt, if she wants to use it, she can. But I really would recommend just getting rid of that infernal thing.”

The joy buzzer felt as heavy as the decision it posited to Azusa. _Yeah, that’s probably for the best. __This feels extreme. Yui-senpai’s already been acting weird today though. Maybe it won’t hurt to have a little extra protection in case she decides to tackle me later tonight. If nothing happens, I can get rid of it when I get home. _Wordlessly, Azusa slipped the joy buzzer into the front pocket of her hoodie.

Ritsu grinned approvingly, while Mio and Sawako’s faces remained impassive. Tsumugi was clearly upset, but she held her tongue. Ui, who hadn’t said anything since Yui disappeared, started to fidget uncomfortably. Though she had just accepted a deterrent for Yui, Azusa wished her senpai would return so she could get rid of the unpleasant atmosphere forming between everyone, especially between her and Ui. It became clear that Azusa needed to explain herself. “Look, I don’t plan on using it, but the last thing I want is to throw it away just for Ritsu-senpai to pick it out of the trash. I’ll dispose of it at home. Thank you for the thought, Ritsu-senpai, but I don’t think I could bring myself to use this.”

The triumph in Ritsu’s expression shifted to disappointment, while everyone else brightened considerably. “Fair enough. Sorry you didn’t like it. I’ll get you something on me from the school store tomorrow to make up for it.” The apology from Ritsu felt more genuine than Azusa expected, but her mind was already turning to the last present she was to receive as she accepted her senpai’s apology easily.

Though keeping track of things wasn’t exactly one of Yui’s defining characteristics, Azusa had expected her senpai to at least know where her own birthday present was stored. Ui started a simple card game while everyone waited, apparently having expected her sister to take her sweet time. As seconds bled into unbearable minutes into several rounds of cards worth of waiting, Azusa couldn’t take anymore. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m going after her,” Azusa declared as the fourth round ended, leaving the safety of the kotatsu to look for her missing senpai.

“Good luck!” Tsumugi called out cheerfully, her mirth at having won the last round not quite spreading to the other girls at the kotatsu.

“She’s probably in her room,” Ui helpfully added as she began to deal cards once more. “You want some backup?”

“No, I can drag her back myself,” Azusa asserted darkly, the determination in her tone preventing anyone from arguing.

Mission in hand, Azusa made her way up the stairs to the third floor, the wooden stairs chilling her feet even through her socks. For the second time in as many hours, Azusa regretted leaving the kotatsu, but the need to retrieve Yui and keep all of her senpais together trumped her desire for warmth. The junior bounded up the stairs, looking to find and return her senpai to the others as soon as possible. Reaching the labelled door to Yui’s room, Azusa tried the knob, only to find the door locked. “Don’t come in!” Yui pointlessly called out in response to the sound of movement at the door.

_I literally can’t come in, _Azusa nearly called back, feeling a little miffed at Yui’s behavior. “Yui-senpai, what are you doing in there? Everyone’s waiting on you. Did you find the present?”

“Uh, nobody’s home!” The door lied poorly. “There’s no Yui in here, come back later.”

Withholding a heavy sigh, Azusa leaned against the wall next to the door. “Yui-senpai, it’s fine if you didn’t get me anything. I’d be much happier if you just joined us downstairs again.”

“But I did!” Yui exclaimed, throwing open the door and nearly smacking Azusa in the face in the process. “Oops, sorry. But I had something! Mugi-chan and Ui can vouch for me!”

The sound of footsteps behind her stole Azusa’s attention. The other girls, evidently not interested in waiting around, had gathered at the stairs, Ritsu and Mio in front with the others following behind. “You can’t find it, Onee-chan?” Ui asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

“I don’t know what happened!” Yui cried out, panic edging further into her tone. “I swear I left it on my bed, but now it’s gone!”

Glancing past her senpai into the girl’s room, Azusa noticed that most of Yui’s belongings had found a new home on the floor. How she hadn’t heard the noise of Yui turning her room upside down to find this supposed gift confounded Azusa, but her senpai’s distress held her focus in the moment. “Yui-senpai, I told you it’s not a big deal. You and Ui-chan have done more than enough by hosting all of us. You can find it and give it to me tomorrow, okay? Let’s go downstairs.” Azusa took Yui’s hand in her own, physically imploring her senpai to forget about her worry for the rest of the day.

“We could search your room one more time for you,” Tsumugi suggested, looking more concerned than even Yui. “Perhaps fresh sets of eyes will-“

“No, you can’t come in right now!” Yui insisted, twisting her head rapidly between her friends and her room. “It’s a mess and I don’t want to mess it up! And besides, I’ve been over everything, it’s gone! It’s… gone.”

Pausing in her attempts to politely drag Yui towards the stairs, Azusa took in the sorry state her senpai found herself in. _Mou, I told her it’s not a big deal. But this is Yui-senpai. Having an air conditioner turned on high is a big deal to her. Based on that look, she’s probably not going to just let this go. If this keeps up, the evening will be ruined. Guess there’s only one thing to do._

Cursing herself for her consideration silently, Azusa released her senpai and marched a few steps into her room against Yui’s protests. “The rest of you should go downstairs and enjoy yourselves,” Azusa spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll help Yui-senpai find her gift and be back shortly.”

Though Yui had just insisted nobody come into her room, she did nothing physical to halt Azusa’s advance, instead giving the kouhai a befuddled look at her words. “Huh? You want to help find your own present?” Yui asked incredulously.

Eyeing the magnitude of the task behind her and already hoping she wouldn’t regret her choice, Azusa pointed at Yui’s face. “I’d rather spend my time doing that than watching you mope about it for the rest of the evening,” Azusa corrected. “None of us want to see that face you’re making right now.”

From the hallway, Mio nodded in agreement. “Of course not. We’ll all help too. You two don’t have to do it alone.” As Mio started to follow Azusa, Tsumugi raised a hand intently to get everyone’s attention.

“Actually, Ui-chan and I have some cleaning we need to do in the kitchen, and we could use as much help as possible,” the heiress announced suddenly. “We could take care of that while we’re waiting, and then everyone can play together again.”

“We do?” Ui whispered to herself, only to receive an elbow from Tsumugi that set her straight. “Oh, um, yes, we do! We’d appreciate the help, Mio-senpai, Ritsu-senpai, Sawako-sensei.”

Sawako’s nose scrunched up at the mention of doing work for no apparent gain. “Ew, work,” she countered brilliantly. “If we’re not doing anything, I’m gonna grade some papers. You all can do whatever. Let me know when there’s something interesting happening.” Without so much as a wave, Sawako retreated down the stairs.

Mio shrugged, not willing to go down Sawako’s path of apathy. “Well, If you two don’t mind looking by yourselves, I’m fine with helping out in the kitchen. I’m sure there’s plenty to do. We’ll reconvene after we’re done, alright?”

A hand was raised in defiant objection. “Wait, don’t I get a say in this? I didn’t sign up for kitchen duty!” Ritsu butted in, stamping a foot ineffectually. “I wanna be on the search team!”

“No,” Answered Azusa and Mio at the same time. “You’re a distraction. Azusa-chan doesn’t need to babysit two children. Come on, baka,” Mio ordered, lightly shoving the drummer towards the stairs.

Utterly bested, Ritsu waved Yui off halfheartedly and gave Azusa a glare promising revenge as she was dragged by her other two friends downstairs, Ui trailing them cheerfully. Yui turned back to Azusa, a guilty expression on her face. “Azu-nyan, you don’t have to help me, I can find it,” Yui declared with a tone that inspired little confidence in the younger guitarist.

“I’m helping because I want to, senpai,” Azusa insisted, making her way into the center of the mess that was Yui’s room. “Now come on, let’s find this thing so we can get back to the others.”

Starting with the various books and personal items on the ground, Azusa knelt and began to sift through her senpai’s belongings before she realized she didn’t know what she was looking for. She looked up to her senpai. “Ne, Yui-senpai, what does the gift look like?”

Yui hadn’t moved from the entrance to her room. She regarded Azusa cautiously, the way prey might stare at a predator to determine if it had been spotted. “Azu-nyan, I want to… um…” Yui started before trailing off almost immediately.

“Yui-senpai, please don’t make a big deal out of this,” Azusa spoke to fill the void her senpai was creating. “Just let me help you with something for once.”

The mood in the room became dour. “For once?” Yui echoed. “You help me out almost every day, Azu-nyan. I never get the chance to help you.”

Azusa looked away, mulling over what her senpai was saying. “Then help me right now by helping me find the present,” she suggested, stacking up some manga that had been splayed out across the table in the center of the room. “What does it look like?”

In response, Yui closed the door to her room quietly, refusing to answer the simple question Azusa had posed. Now becoming annoyed, Azusa stood up once more. “Yui-senpai, why’d you close the door? Are we going to find this thing or not?”

A rather unfittingly somber expression had overtaken Yui, but the determination she held onto in the rare moments when she was concentrating on something was still glittering in her eyes. Azusa suddenly felt like she was talking to a completely different person, which did nothing positive for the concerns in the back of her mind. “Azu-nyan, I’m going to be helpful.”

* * *

**November 13th, 5:46 PM **

As far as Mio Akiyama could tell, today had been a great day. The usual Ritsu-induced hiccups aside, she had deeply enjoyed herself, and was able to forget her troubles as she spent time with the people she cared about the most besides her parents. However, as she left Azusa and Yui to their search while dragging a kicking and complaining Ritsu with Tsumugi’s help, a pang of familiar doubt rang dismally in Mio’s mind. _Is it okay to leave them alone so soon after what happened a few days ago? But it was Azusa-chan’s suggestion. I guess that means it’s okay. Yes, I must have faith in everyone. If I can’t believe in them, I can’t call them my friends. _

Confidence formed a shell around Mio’s mind that prevented bleak thoughts from penetrating it. A week ago, she wouldn’t have so easily been able to shake off such troubling ideas. Today, though, and since her field trip with Tsumugi and Ritsu to discuss their guitarists and fulfilling her mission to provide sustenance to a turtle, the world had seemed just a bit brighter to the reclusive bassist. With fresh motivation, she had conducted careful research over the past several days, searching for the road that she could walk with her band, the solution she knew they were all grasping at._ And now I can finally tell them. Unless I missed something, this should be the solution to our problem. This way, we can all step into the future together, and it’s so simple I hadn’t even considered it. I made that decision, that I don’t want us to go just yet. What we have is more important than anything else to me. I can’t bring Azusa-chan with us this year, but at the least, I can do this for the four of us. _Fire nobody else could see was alit in Mio’s soul, the passion bred from a rare certainty of purpose, to the point that she had to contain herself so Ritsu would stop staring at her in confusion every few seconds. She didn’t want to mess up the moment she revealed her plan to everyone by acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

As Mio and the others set about tidying the kitchen and living room, it became apparent rather quickly how little there was to do. Aside from the mess that the fabulous cake had left behind, Tsumugi and Ui had already washed and stored away the dishes and cups left from the afternoon’s edible offerings. Tempting as it was to badger Ui with questions as to why she claimed she needed so much unnecessary help, Mio wasn’t about to ruin the cheerful atmosphere of the room by complaining about work, leaving that burden to Ritsu. She gave the drummer a sidelong glance from her position by the sink, but was shut out. Ritsu had busied herself putting away what few leftovers their group had allowed to survive and didn’t appear interested in voicing Mio’s concerns for her. Mio tilted her head, nearly soaking her hair in the process. Something was distracting her childhood friend, but Mio couldn’t place exactly what it was. With Tsumugi and Ui taking care of the remaining dishes Mio washed, their task was finished rather quickly, and the four of them were left standing around awkwardly in the kitchen, no sign of Yui or Azusa’s return to direct their actions. “They’re taking their sweet time,” Ritsu grumbled in annoyance, drumming her fingers impatiently on the countertop. “I could have gone to the store and bought Nakano another birthday gift by now.”

“Then do it,” Mio uncaringly ordered. “Anything’s better than a joy buzzer.”

Ritsu stuck her tongue out at her childhood friend, who would have returned the gesture had they been alone. Instead, she settled for an icy stare while Ui attempted to take control of things. “It hasn’t been too long, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” the younger sister reassured with no precedent before Ritsu could come up with a verbal retort. “Why don’t we play something and have tea? They’ll be back sooner if we have something to do while we wait.” The idea of tea killed the argument Ritsu had been preparing to start, and she instead crossed her arms and remained mum.

Following Ui’s suggestion for lack of a better idea, the girls returned to the kotatsu, where Sawako was lounging around lazily, not a paper to be graded in sight. The teacher perked up when tea was offered, and a game of go fish was started semi-enthusiastically. Though Mio still held lingering concern for the guitarists, she managed to distract herself with the game in front of her and her other friends. Tsumugi wasn’t as readily able to hide her apprehension. After the third time she nearly missed her turn due to staring listlessly at the stairs when she thought nobody was looking, Mio felt bold enough to say something. “Mugi-chan, they’ll be back soon. There’s no need to be worried,” she soothed, partially for her own benefit.

Caught, Tsumugi blushed, covering the lower half of her face with the cards in her hand. “Oh no, I’m not worried! I just think things are going rather well, to be completely honest.”

Ritsu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You think waiting on Yui and the birthday girl to finish tearing up the house together means things are going well? Give me your optimism. And a three, while you’re at it.”

“Go fish, sorry.” Tsumugi shot down. “And while it’s upsetting that Yui-chan’s present is missing, I’m glad they’re getting the chance to spend some time together alone. It’s good for them.” The blonde smiled dreamily while Ritsu drew a card, grumbling the whole time.

“The last time they spent time alone together, one of them nearly broke her arm,” Mio pointed out, wondering how Tsumugi had managed to forget about that particular event so soon. “I thought you’d at least be concerned that they might argue again.”

Mio’s point missed its mark as Tsumugi shook her head serenely. “They made up though,” the heiress dismissed easily. “And furthermore, while we might have gotten them to make up with the rest of us present, I’m sure they have things they’d like to discuss privately. I’d go as far as to say it’s imperative that they have this time to sort things out between them, unleash their innermost feelings, admit their-“

“Mugi-senpai, do you have a 6?!” Ui asked as loudly as one could without outright yelling, her blush furiously reddening her whole face as she cut the heiress off.

The sound of Sawako drinking tea sloppily filled the otherwise silent living room as everyone stared at Ui. “Oh, no, Ui-chan, my apologies,” Tsumugi responded coyly after a moment, her own face becoming more than a bit flushed. “I suppose my point is that I’m happy to find my preparations were mostly unnecessary.”

Not quite back from the trip Tsumugi’s words had sent Ui on, the younger girl drew a card silently, her hands drooping to allow Ritsu to peep at her rival’s entire hand. Noticing Ritsu’s cheating, Mio smacked the drummer swiftly, Ritsu’s pained cries distracting everyone and giving Ui time to gather her thoughts. “You planned for this?” the younger sister eventually asked, still a bit red.

Tsumugi smiled mysteriously. “No, of course not. I would never keep Yui-chan from giving Azusa-chan the gift I helped her make herself. I believe it’s your turn, Mio-chan.”

“Unless you thought it would benefit you,” Sawako commented idly, not really paying attention to the game or the conversation as she fanned herself with her hand of cards.

Choosing to pretend Sawako didn’t exist, Ritsu instead homed in on what Tsumugi had mentioned. “Wait, you helped make it?” she asked. “What is it? You’re gonna make me look bad if it’s something really heartfelt.”

“You did that to yourself, baka,” Mio pointed out unsympathetically. “Give me your threes.”

Tossing a three ruefully in the general direction of her childhood friend, Ritsu sighed. “Excuse me for trying to be helpful. But seriously, Mugi, what did you two make?”

Putting a finger to her chin in contemplation, Tsumugi debated internally how to respond. Mio waited for her friend’s response, forgetting that she was supposed to be taking another turn. “Well, assuming they find it, it can’t hurt to tell you,” Tsumugi decided. “It’s a photo album of pictures of Azusa-chan and Yui-chan, decorated by me and Yui-chan. Yui-chan has been working on it for a while, and she only recently finished it. I just helped decorate it.”

Hearing the reason behind her friends’ disappearance, Mio felt a nostalgic smile coming on. She had her own private collection of photos of their group over the years, and she knew Ritsu had one too. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest that Yui had picked up her friend’s hobby. _I can’t blame her for being upset or wanting to find it, in that case. I’d be beside myself if I lost my photo albums._ “It’s a bit early for memory making though,” Ritsu thought aloud. “Doesn’t that feel more like a going away present?”

“Or a good present to help someone confess how they feel,” Tsumugi responded with a straight face.

Ui nearly fell out of the kotatsu, requiring Ritsu’s support to sit up straight again. Mio’s grip on the cards in her hands tightened as her friend’s machinations were made clear to her. “Mugi-chan, we agreed not to incite anything drastic between them, didn’t we?” she questioned, giving her blonde friend a skeptical look. “Also, do you have a queen?”

“No, and I haven’t incited anything,” Tsumugi answered both questions. “It’s up to them to take that step. I can’t force them not to repeat this cycle over and over again.” Mio drew a card, an uneasy feeling that Tsumugi was withholding something that she couldn’t shake sneaking up on her.

“I’m out of tea,” Sawako announced, like she was saying something that mattered.

On instinct, Tsumugi stood up immediately, taking Sawako’s empty cup with her. Confirming that nobody else needed refills, Tsumugi retreated into the kitchen, with Ui excusing herself seconds later to assist with the tea preparation. Mio nearly put her face in her hands at the obedience Tsumugi was showing, her opportunity at further questioning ruined. _Mugi-chan’s been trained by Sawako-sensei too well. We really do take advantage of her generosity. That aside, the things she was saying about Azusa-chan and Yui-chan are unsettling. Now I’m just getting worried for no reason. _

“What do you think, Ritsu?” Mio asked, setting her cards facedown for the moment, unable to play with 40% of the players missing.

A half-hearted smirk danced around Ritsu’s mouth. “I think I’m going to win this game, but if you’re talking about the guitarists, I think they’ll be fine. Mugi’s just got the wrong idea about where they’re at with each other.”

“Perhaps, but I’m still concerned,” Mio insisted, leaning forward a bit. “I think we should check on them, or even help them look for Yui-chan’s present.”

Mio’s imploring left Ritsu unmoved. “Knock yourself out then, Mio,” the drummer waved off dismissively. “I’m going to stay where it’s warm, waiting for everyone to stop overreacting.”

Crossing her arms, Mio stood up defiantly. “I’m not overreacting. I’m worried about my friends. Is that so wrong?”

“You’re always overreacting,” Sawako advised helpfully, earning two glares for her troubles. “Trust me. Let them do whatever the hell they want, because it doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things.”

“You don’t matter in the scheme of things,” Ritsu retorted, shooting down Sawako’s point flawlessly. “Sit down, Mio. I’ll go with you after we finish this hand, okay?”

Caught between wanting to stick to her guns and not wanting to confront Azusa and Yui by herself, Mio froze, uncertainty stiffening her muscles. Tense seconds ticked by, allowing Ritsu’s easy grin of reassuring confidence to whittle away at Mio’s resolve, cajoling the bassist to sit once more. “Thanks,” she whispered, barely audibly.

Ritsu only nodded once in acceptance of Mio’s gratitude. Though Mio certainly wasn’t afraid of HTT’s guitarists, the conversation she just had cautioned her that she might be walking into something more private than she was prepared to handle herself. Having a rock like Ritsu around was always useful, and Ritsu made a fantastic rock, with all the brainpower of one to boot. With nothing further to discuss, heavy silence overtook the living room for the first time since Mio and Ritsu had arrived. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, similar to the random strikes of quiet that peppered Ritsu and Mio’s other interactions occasionally, in between the crazy antics and wild Ritsu games that pushed Mio’s last nerve. However, several unanswered questions continued to plague Mio’s thoughts, preventing her mind from being at ease. The bassist sighed to herself. _The mood sure soured quickly. This is just another reason we need Yui-chan around. She would know what to say in situations like this. But I shouldn’t rely on her and Ritsu for things like this. There has to be something I can do. _Searching for an answer, Mio ended up staring at Ritsu. The drummer, who had been idly looking out the sliding glass door, realized she was being watched and shot Mio a look.

“What?” Ritsu asked. “I’m not telling you what cards Ui has. That’s my advantage.”

Already wishing she could unbreak the silence her actions had shattered, Mio settled for telling the truth. “It’s nothing, baka. I was just thinking.”

“Damn, what a shock,” Ritsu cheekily responded.

Mio raised an eyebrow but didn’t play into Ritsu’s challenge. The glint in Ritsu’s eyes was offset by the blatant concern Mio could see behind it. _This isn’t normal goading. Something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Her gift, perhaps?_ _I know she said it doesn’t hurt, but there has to be a better way to convince Yui-chan to stop hugging Azusa-chan, if that’s what she wants. _“Don’t get testy with me,” Mio chided. “You knew the risk involved with giving Azusa-chan a gift like that.”

Nearly dropping her own cards to the table, Ritsu stared incredulously at Mio. “Wow, you think that’s what’s bothering me? Come on, Mio, where have you been for the last five minutes?”

Rewinding time internally to find Ritsu’s argument, Mio frowned. “What, the stuff Mugi-chan was saying about Azusa-chan and Yui-chan? It’s just her imagination, and you were the one who said you think they’ll be fine. She wouldn’t do anything drastic on her own. We can trust our friends, Ritsu.”

“I know that, but you don’t understand what I’m saying,” Ritsu sighed in exasperation. “She already has done something. We did too, by putting the idea in their heads. Mugi just gave them the last push they needed to collide. Yeah, they’ll be fine, but our band might not be.”

The ominous musing didn’t match Mio’s perception of her childhood friend. Sawako’s sharp laugh cut off the discussion. “Come on, you two, pick your heads up a little. Are these really the sort of things you need to be thinking deeply about? Who likes who, high school edition? Lighten up. Ritsu, you haven’t even bothered filling out your career plan for next year. Don’t you think your priorities are a little confused? Take it from an adult, you need to pay more attention to your own future, rather than what other people are doing.” Said adult then proceeded to collapse against the kotatsu pathetically, sighing in content at the heat flowing through her body and completely releasing whatever had possessed her to go into teacher mode for fifteen seconds.

To her own surprise, Mio felt her temper flare up in defense of her friend. “Don’t make light of stuff like this,” she warned, raising her voice indignantly. “It’s just as important to us as anything else. This affects our band and our future.”

Ritsu thought about adding on to Mio’s claim, then thought better of it. “What she said. Besides, I don’t need to plan ahead. I’ll just do whatever feels right when the time comes.”

“The time is coming, and sooner than you think,” Sawako warned, her voice partially muffled by the table. “Just because I’m not the sweet teacher you thought I was doesn’t mean I’m not your teacher. I want you and the others to at least try to succeed.”

Sizing up her options as Ritsu shrugged nonchalantly, Mio’s thoughts were distractedly pulled towards her own machinations. _So Ritsu doesn’t have any real plans for the future. I know for a fact that Yui-chan doesn’t, and Mugi-chan has made her plans quite clear. I guess this is as good a time as any to bring this up. Maybe this will cheer Ritsu up a bit. _“So you don’t know what you’re going to do next year?” Mio asked for confirmation. “No college plans?”

“Not yet,” Ritsu responded idly, swaying back and forth on her knees. “I’ll figure it out later.”

“Well, I think you should at least consider attending a university,” Mio suggested, dancing around the idea she had bottled within herself for days. “It’s an easy way to secure your future.”

The initial verbal attack was swiftly parried by the opposing party. “Says you, top student,” Ritsu argued. “Whether I end up a grad student or a NEET doesn’t really matter. Long as I follow my gut, nothing can go wrong.”

Mio shook her head, twisting her foe’s words around to advance once more. “Your gut is one of many reasons why you should pursue a higher education. I’d be more than willing to help you prepare for entrance exams. In fact, I-“

Holding up a hand to cut Mio off, Ritsu straightened up a little, her eyes betraying her suspicions. “You’re talking like you have a university in mind,” Ritsu accused, taking a step back to observe how her opponent would attempt to strike next. “I can’t make it into one of those top universities and you know it. God forbid you try getting Yui into one of those places.”

Realizing that subtlety would get her nowhere, Mio went straight for her finishing move. _Alright, just say it. Stop thinking about it. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Channel Yui-chan if you have to, and say it! _“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last week,” she admitted, willing herself to just make her point. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather attend university with you all and keep the band alive than attend a top university.”

Ritsu spat out the sip of tea she had been drinking, fortunately missing anything of importance. The reaction somehow wasn’t the worst one Mio had pictured in her head, and she managed to maintain her composure as she waited for Ritsu to put some context behind her actions. “What the hell, Mio?! You can’t do that!” she barked, slamming her teacup on the table, nearly shattering it.

Sawako was now sitting up, running a finger around her empty teacup with vigorous interest. It wasn’t Mio’s plan to have an audience, but for once, she felt Sawako could actually be useful in helping Ritsu see her point. Mio lifted her chin proudly, convincing herself that she couldn’t back down. “I can do whatever I please. I’ve been looking into the university Mugi-chan is planning to attend, and I believe all of us could get in. It has a diverse curriculum, it’s prestigious without being too difficult for, um, Yui and you to reach, and, most importantly, this way, we can stay together.” The bassist couldn’t help but smirk a little as she fired away point after point in what she felt was a flawless argument.

Instead of responding, Ritsu turned away from her friend’s imposing presence, towards their homeroom teacher. “She’s obviously going insane. Can you talk some sense into her, Sawa-chan-sensei?” she asked, more seriously than Mio expected.

Sawako set her teacup down gingerly. With no context, she came off as the sweet and sensitive teacher Mio had initially thought she was when they first met years ago, at least until she opened her mouth. “I think it’s a step down for scardey-cat and a big step up for you and airhead. That being said, what you do is ultimately up to you. I’ll approve your choice if that’s what you want to shoot for, assuming your reasoning is sound.”

The answer was frustratingly neutral for both girls. Ritsu let out a sigh, facing Mio again reluctantly. Mio waited for Ritsu to say something that could clear up what the hurt look on her friend’s face meant. “I… I don’t know. This is really sudden, Mio. I need some time to think about it.” She clenched her hands into fists on top of her legs.

Unprepared for such an outcome, Mio defaulted to defensive hostility. Scoffing over the warning signs her friend was nonverbally giving her with her body language, Mio pressed forward. “Think about it? When have you ever stopped to think anything through? I’m telling you this is the best solution I can think of. We don’t have to go our separate ways, Ritsu. Think about that! I don’t want to leave this behind, Ritsu. Don’t you want to stay with us?”

Closing and opening her mouth a few times in an attempt to respond, Ritsu settled on a blank look that hid how she felt. It was almost unnerving, not being able to tell exactly what Ritsu was thinking. _Then again, I almost never know what she’s thinking. That’s how she gets me wrapped up in so many crazy schemes, like starting a band._ “Look, Mio, I think I get where you’re coming from, but from my perspective, there’s several major flaws in your idea. I’d just like some time to think about it before I give you an answer. Come on, do me a favor here.”

“Answer about what?” Tsumugi asked, returning with a fresh pot of tea, Ui trailing solemnly behind her.

Ui had an isolated look in her eyes, but Mio was too distracted by the lukewarm reception her idea had received to notice. Blurting out the plan she had formulated to the heiress now felt more like a mistake, rather than the next logical step in the conversation. Ritsu remained mute, leaving one person the burden of filling in the two returning girls as they took their seats at the kotatsu back. “They were batting around the idea of attending that J. Women’s University place you were trying to get into,” Sawako explained impartially. “Drummer wanted some time to think about it.”

As she finished pouring Sawako’s tea, the news brightened Tsumugi’s smile. “Oh, I see! That’s a wonderful idea! Though it wouldn’t be easy, I’m certainly in favor of that happening. Mio-chan and I will gladly tutor you and Yui-chan. What’s the issue, Ricchan?”

Ritsu stood up. Her passive expression had become angered, one eye twitching a little. “Mugi, be real with me for a minute. Did you or didn’t you put the idea of going to the same university in Mio’s head?”

Now officially lost, Mio could only look on as Tsumugi took a long sip of her tea, allowing the question to be fully digested by the table before giving it the time of day. “I encouraged Mio-chan to attend university with me when she brought it up. I didn’t have to broach the subject myself.”

Unsatisfied, Ritsu huffed, pressing forward without regard for her surroundings. She had heard the implication behind Tsumugi’s answer just as clearly as Mio had. “Uh huh. Then what about Nakano? Attending the same university won’t do her any good next year. You expect us to continue without her?”

“If she decides to follow us, it would only be for a year,” Mio pointed out, running as hard as she could to keep up with the drummer’s logic. “But that’s her choice. I’m talking about what we can do right now, with graduation approaching. This has to be the opportunity we were looking for.” _The wish I really wanted to make, that I’m trying to get granted myself._

Whirling to glare briefly at Mio instead of Tsumugi, Ritsu gritted her teeth. “It’s a chance for you to waste your potential, and that’s it,” she countered, moving back to Tsumugi before Mio could respond. “And as for you, you’re too smart not to have noticed that problem with Nakano. So I was right. All that pushing for Yui and Nakano wasn’t just for show then, huh?”

Tsumugi tossed her hair behind her with one hand, the flippant action only serving to further aggravate the drummer in front of her. “Why would it be? Do you think I would just carelessly shove people together for fun? I really, really believe in them, Ricchan!” Tsumugi pouted a little, pressing her fingers together over her teacup cutely.

“Back up,” Mio ordered. “What was that about wasting potential, baka?”

Ritsu scoffed, not breaking eye contact with Tsumugi. “Don’t play dumb. Sawa-chan said it herself. This university is a step down for you. Don’t pretend it’s not. I don’t want to be the reason you chose to throw that sort of opportunity away. You’re the one who’s always complaining about how you never get anything out of our friendship, and here you are, proving yourself right.”

Familiar indignation coursed into Mio. She had had quite enough of Ritsu’s completely illogical non-answers. “I’m not squandering anything!” Mio yelled back, her frustration at Ritsu’s obstinance now reaching a boiling point. “You’re not making any sense at all. You wanted to keep our friendships alive, and then when I come up with a way to do that, you shoot me down, saying you, _you, _need time to think, that I don’t care about you! What am _I_ supposed to think about that?”

“If I may interject,” Ui politely interrupted.

The three band members turned their direct attention to their younger host. Ui balked for a moment at the sudden reaction, but calmed herself down enough to continue, eyes trained on the tea in front of her. “I don’t understand the situation perfectly, but I know that Onee-chan would want all of you to go to the same university with her, if that helps anything. Regardless of what’s going on between Onee-chan and Azusa-chan, I believe having a goal to work towards of attending university with you all would do wonders for her motivation. Um, that’s all.” As suddenly as she interrupted, Ui silenced herself, like she had never been there.

Nodding gratefully at Ui for her input, Mio decided to give convincing Ritsu one more shot. “There, you see? Come on, talk to us, Ritsu. What’s keeping you from saying yes right now?” Mio implored her friend to open up, hoping diplomacy might be more enticing than the abrasive approach.

Rising from her seated position on the ground, Tsumugi made her way over towards her irate friend, taking her hands delicately. Though not thrilled with the arrangement, Ritsu didn’t shake Tsumugi off. “Ricchan, this university is one of, if not the most prestigious women’s university in the country. You shouldn’t concern yourself with Mio-chan wasting anything by choosing to attempt to get in there. If she really thought your friendship wasn’t good for her, why would she even consider doing something like this? And in any case, what you do with the education is far more important than where you get it from, so what’s important is that we all have some form of education to give us the best possible shot at the future we can have. Additionally, if your concern is more about your own ability, I assure you that Mio-chan and I can adequately prepare you and Yui-chan for the entrance exams. You have my word.” Sawako gave Tsumugi’s pitch an appreciative whistle while Mio nodded along in agreement, Tsumugi having evidently put just as much thought into this as Mio herself. _Wait, has she really been planning this from the beginning? Am I okay with that?_

As the question teased her relentlessly, Mio distracted herself by noting Ritsu’s reaction. For the first time, the bassist detected doubt in Ritsu’s features, but it was still overpowered by something else, a self-imposed distance from the whole situation that Mio couldn’t determine the reason for. “That’s not the problem, Mugi. Believe me when I say I would give anything to keep what we have going on as long as possible, and I intend to, no matter what happens next year.” The hope that shone in Tsumugi’s eyes dimmed considerably as Ritsu dislodged herself from her friend’s grip. “Here’s the real problem: You’re making out attending the same university as me and Yui to being the same thing as keeping us together. I do want us to stay together as friends and as a band, but I don’t think it has to have anything to do with what university we go to. If you want to do that, fine, but I’m not going to be part of the reason you made that choice. That’s just how I feel about this.”

“You refuse to take responsibility,” Sawako corrected.

Tsumugi had to take a rapid step backwards to avoid being shoulder checked by Ritsu when she swung around to scowl at her teacher. “Excuse you?” Ritsu angrily retorted, staring her teacher down as her rage rapidly returned. “Like Mio said, it’s my choice what I do. What’s wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with making your own choices, so long as you acknowledge why you’re making them, and their consequences,” Sawako somberly stated. “I don’t think you’re doing either. I could argue the same holds true for most of you right now, but I won’t, because I don’t feel like it. Getting into J. Women’s University is a long shot for you and Yui, yes, but not impossible. Mio could do better, but she could do far worse. The fact that Tsumugi is choosing to go there is a testament to that. What the right decision is depends on your point of view.”

For an instant, Mio could swear she saw steam coming out of Ritsu’s head, the way it felt like it did for Yui whenever she tried to learn more than one thing at a time. “Alright, I’ve had enough,” Ritsu declared, allowing herself to fall back down to the kotatsu. “You’ve all said your piece, and I told you I want to think about it for a bit. Can we drop this for now? We’re at a party for God’s sake. Please?”

Mio nearly spat out her own tea. Ritsu never sincerely said please for any reason. Though she desperately wanted to seek out further answers from her friend, Mio knew better than to push Ritsu too far. If she felt the matter was critical enough to warrant niceties, Mio wasn’t going to test her luck against her closest friend any further. Tsumugi clearly didn’t subscribe to this train of thought. “What about how Mio-chan feels, Ricchan? She’s choosing to do this for us. Are you trying to say that means nothing to you?”

Rolling onto her back, Ritsu eyed Tsumugi dangerously from the ground, her position unbefitting of the grievous nature of the situation. “Don’t even pretend to imply that. It’s because of that that I have to take this whole damn thing seriously. I just wanted to go to a party and have fun, but no, we have to deal with college this, band romance that. Damn it you two, is it not obvious to you that what you’re doing is going to tear apart what little time we have left?! Why am I the only one who seems to care about the present?!”

Ritsu’s shoulders sagged, exhausted from expelling so much energy, but she didn’t stop talking. “Look, that didn’t come out quite right. I don’t need to follow you to a university to be your friend, be in a band with you. Yui doesn’t need to either. That’s the fact of the matter. No matter what we do, we’ll just be kicking a can down the road, so we’re better off enjoying the time we have and not worrying about it. That’s why I think the crap with Yui and Nakano you’re pulling needs to stop, Mugi. Call it whatever you want, the risk you’re taking isn’t worth it. It’ll happen by itself if it’s meant to be. As their friend, you of all people should understand that.”

“A stop?” Mio echoed, her puzzled head beginning to hurt.

_How did suggesting we go to the same university turn back into this? Why is Ritsu giving us such pushback on this? And the stuff about Yui-chan and Azusa-chan… what does it have to do with college and Mugi? Unless Ritsu is trying to suggest…_

The pieces Mio was putting together were ugly enough on their own without having to connect them. As the heiress sat down once more, Mio found what she hoped was the irrational side of her too difficult to ignore. “Are you really trying to make Yui-chan and Azusa-chan hook up like that, Mugi-chan?” the bassist asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. “Just to make sure Azusa-chan stays with us?”

Tsumugi met Mio’s questioning stare confidently. “I’m trying to make sure everyone is happy. That’s all I can do.”

The question had been neatly dodged, but Mio wasn’t about to give up yet. She took a sip of tea to contemplate her response carefully. “Mugi-chan, you’re my friend and I care about you, but so are Yui-chan and Azusa-chan. We talked things through, and we agreed not to interfere with these affairs. Please tell me you listened to us. Please.”

A hint of regret tainted Tsumugi’s features. “I wanted to find a better way, really,” she whispered to herself. “I tried. But… after last week… I couldn’t keep waiting for things to just work out when I knew they wouldn’t on their own, so I did what I thought was best. That happened to involve attempting to bring Yui-chan and Azusa-chan closer together. I’m sorry if you disagree with my methodology, but I believe the results will justify my actions.” Ritsu scoffed at the apology, but Mio found herself questioning whether she actually disagreed with the logic behind what she was hearing.

_I don’t have all the information, that much is clear. There’s been some things going on behind the scenes I haven’t been privy to. From the sound of things, however, Mugi-chan’s been using Yui-chan to convince Azusa-chan to remain connected to us after we graduate. That’s selfish, yes, but is it so wrong if Azusa-chan and Yui-chan are okay with that? What’s the right answer here? Who’s right? Am I right?_

Thoughts in Mio’s head began to stall as she struggled to process her emotions. It was tempting to look to Ritsu for advice, but since Ritsu was part of the problem, Mio suddenly found herself without a lifeline, and it frightened her. “Ah… well… I think it’s best we get Azusa-chan and Yui-chan to clarify things for us, that way nobody has to worry about where we all stand. Is that reasonable?”

Shockingly, nobody, not even Ritsu, seemed to be thrilled with Mio’s proposal. Ui cleared her throat loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. “Maybe it’s just me, but I’m almost certain that confronting them directly as a group would only serve to embarrass Azusa-chan into never wanting to talk to Onee-chan again.”

Mio’s two bandmates nodded their heads in agreement. “We’ll deal with it when they come to us, not that I’m thrilled about it,” Ritsu declared from the ground.

“It is in their hands,” Tsumugi sagely added. “Why don’t we continue to play?”

Nobody was in much of a mood to play after the conversation they had just had. Mio stared at her cards unenthusiastically. Ritsu tried sitting up, but failed. “Mioooo, pick me up. I’m tired,” she begged, acting like everything that had happened since she came downstairs was a dream.

Glancing with irritation at the girl who, by Mio’s calculations, had ruined most of the evening, the urge to help Ritsu up was unsurprisingly weak. “Get up yourself, baka.”

Tsumugi jumped in where Mio failed to act, offering Ritsu a hand kindly. Ritsu hesitated for a moment, staring at Mio, then took Tsumugi’s offer. Unfortunately, she failed to account for Tsumugi’s strength, and ended up smacking herself into the kotatsu when Tsumugi pulled her up, rattling the table part and knocking Tsumugi’s drink directly into her lap. “Oh my!” Tsumugi exclaimed, rapidly beginning to dab a napkin on her dress as tea seeped into it.

“Shit, sorry, Mugi,” Ritsu apologized as Ui and Sawako stood up, having managed to prevent their own tea from being spilled with their free hands. “Do you have any towels, Ui?”

“There’s some clean ones in the bathrooms upstairs,” Ui answered. “I’ll-“

“I got it,” Mio interrupted. “It’s partially my fault. I’ll take care of it.”

Ui shrugged. “I’ll get some paper towels then. Hurry back. Make sure Onee-chan and Azusa-chan are okay while you’re up there, would you?”

Mio took the opportunity she had been handed and ran with it. She wasn’t going to say anything, but she had to make sure the two at least weren’t fighting again. “It’s fine, Ricchan,” Tsumugi graciously responded to Ritsu’s apology. “It’s my fault.”

It was strange to hear Ritsu and Tsumugi getting along so easily after what had just happened, but Mio didn’t grant herself the time to think about it. All her thoughts had shifted to making sure her guitarists weren’t slugging it out at the moment. _Everyone else must just be going crazy. There’s nothing interesting going on up there. I’ll just pop in, check on them, and grab some towels from the bathroom afterwards. Yes, everything is fine. We’re all fine, and Ritsu will come around, and we’ll all be fine._

These encouraging thoughts quickly became less reassuring as Mio ascended the stairs, her worries plaguing her mind once more. _Everything was perfect an hour ago. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have known better than to push Ricchan into something out of the blue like this. And if what she says is true, I’ve been missing what Mugi-chan has been doing behind the scenes to push Yui-chan and Azusa-chan together. Assuming it works, that’s not much of a problem, but if something goes wrong, well… _Mio shook her head as she reached the top of the stairs.

Just by ascending the steps, the chatter of the second floor had disappeared. Mio realized that she hadn’t heard anything from Yui or Azusa since she left them alone some time ago, and it didn’t appear as if they had reacted to the shouting that had gone on downstairs. Reaching the door to Yui’s room to check on the guitarists before retrieving a towel, Mio was startled to see it closed. She considered knocking on the door to announce her presence, but leaning against the door, she couldn’t hear any noise coming from inside. A hint of fear manifested in the bassist’s mind. _Are they okay? What if something really has happened again? No, there’s no way. It was an accident last time. There’s nothing wrong. In fact, there’s so much not wrong that it doesn’t matter if I walk in unannounced right now, because nothing’s wrong. _

Eager to prove her point, Mio swung the door open, nearly slamming it into the wall in the process. Light flooded into the dark room behind her. Fear suddenly won a few more points over Mio’s rationality at the change in visibility, and Mio squinted in the darkness to locate her friends. “Y-yui-chan? Azusa-chan?” Mio cautiously asked, growing annoyed at the trembling in her tone.

As soon as she took a tentative step into the room, a hissing sound made Mio’s blood freeze colder than any blizzard could. “Shhhhhh!” came the insistent hush from across the room.

Fighting the urge to run away, Mio forced herself to look to Yui’s bed on the other side of the room. Two figures lay huddled near the head of the bed, against the nearby nightstand, the drawer removed from its hinges. Yui was sitting against the bed, a finger to her lips clueing Mio in to the source of the sound. On Yui’s lap laid Azusa, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Mio began to calm down a little. _Relax, Mio. It’s just your friends, everything is fine. _

This comfort in mind, Mio’s gaze drifted further downward, to the pool of red liquid that covered the ground around the two girls and the front of the unconscious, barely breathing Azusa’s red hoodie. Yui followed Mio’s gaze and shook her head rapidly, pointing to the finger at her lips to indicate the need for silence. Mio ignored this advice and screamed at the top of her lungs before completely passing out cold in the doorway, the image of a bloodied Azusa covered in barnacles haunting her final thoughts.

* * *

**November 13th, 5:46 PM**

Azusa stared at Yui and the closed door behind her. “What do you mean you’re going to be helpful?” the kouhai repeated, suspicious of her senpai’s definition of helping.

Yui shuffled towards the other side of the room, dragging her feet guiltily. For a long minute, she didn’t respond, waiting until she reached the head of her bed, where she knelt by her nightstand. It was there she graced Azusa with such a poor attempt at appearing stoic and serious that the cat-like kouhai had to stifle a giggle to avoid offending her senpai. “Okay, look, Azu-nyan, I need you to keep this a secret from everyone, especially Ui and Giita, okay? I’m serious. Look at my serious face, Azu-nyan. I’m serious.”

Unwilling to even attempt to determine if Yui was being serious, Azusa nodded rapidly. _Another game, it has to be. She’s been acting too strangely for it not to be. Not to mention she keeps secrets about as well as she remembers guitar chords. _“Yes, I see you, senpai. Your secrets are safe with me, as long as you aren’t doing anything illegal,” Azusa promised.

“Pinky promise!” Yui insisted, sticking out her pinky childishly towards Azusa’s place near the center of Yui’s room.

Recalling the last time she made a pinky promise in elementary school, Azusa intertwined her pinky with Yui’s, now extremely grateful that none of her other senpais were around. “Okay, okay, I pinky promise. Please hurry up and show me whatever is so important nobody else can see it now.”

Satisfied, Yui took hold of the single drawer that ran from the top of the nightstand to the floor and yanked it out of its place, completely separating it from the nightstand. Shoving the drawer aside, Yui motioned for Azusa to look into the hole she had created. “Come on, check it out!” Yui invited, making space for Azusa to peep inside.

A multitude of ways this situation could go horribly wrong for Azusa ran through her mind. Her fingers glided over the surface of the joy buzzer in her pocket before she caught herself, yanking both hands out into the open air wildly. _Calm the hell down, Nakano. This is Yui-senpai, not a serial killer. It’s probably just a food stash or something equally childish. Relax, damn you. _

Shoving away inane notions that Yui had hidden some fantastic stolen treasure or a collection of severed body parts behind her empty drawer, Azusa cautiously crept over and stared in the open space, brushing her wayward hair out of her face. What she was met with was an abundance of food and drink. Stacked haphazardly against the wall were several bags of chips and similar snacks, complimented by various drinks in a rainbow of colors and multiple sizes. She recognized several of the brands as the ones sold in the school store and nearby vending machines, but others were completely foreign to her. How Yui had managed to fit all of this behind her drawer made no sense to Azusa, but her more pressing question was why she was being shown this. A hand reached past the confused girl and pulled out two bottles of a dark red liquid that looked like fruit punch of some sort. Yui took a long swig from one of them and sighed in content. “It’s not tea, but punch is nice too, in a pinch like this. Searching really wore me out. I couldn’t let Ui dig through my room, or she’d find my secret stash,” Yui explained mischievously. “I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t help running out of energy sometimes, ehehe. If Ui knew I was keeping food in my room for emergencies, though, she’d take it away. Anyways, this will give us the energy to keep searching! Want a drink?” Yui offered the unopened bottle to the kouhai.

Several emotions ran through Azusa at once, primarily relief. It was the first time that day that Yui had done something Azusa could have easily anticipated. Being used to the constant, irritatingly endearing wavelength that represented Yui Hirasawa had made Yui’s erratic actions today all the more unsettling. Though she wasn’t particularly thirsty, she accepted the drink politely anyways, taking the seat Yui patted out for her on her bed. She took a sip of the sickeningly sweet drink, doing her best not to spit it out while she thought some things through. Though Yui probably loved the extreme sweetness behind the drink, it was all Azusa could do not to gag. “I doubt Ui-chan doesn’t know about this,” Azusa eventually decided.

From her spot next to Azusa, Yui shook her head, nearly sending her drink everywhere as her body and the entire bed was jostled with her. “No way! I’ve been super careful. Azu-nyan, I’m really good at hiding things!” Realizing what she said as she said it, Yui corrected herself quickly. “I mean this thing in particular! Don’t look into it!”

Suppressing a small grin, Azusa set about explaining her theory. “Ui-chan cleans your room daily, so I doubt she wouldn’t know it inside and out,” Azusa reminded her senpai. “The kitchen was clean already. I know this because Ui-chan never takes the time to relax when there’s still a chore to be done. She let Mugi-senpai and the others have a reason not to rummage around in your room so she wouldn’t have to ‘find’ your stash, and she let me stay so it wouldn’t look suspicious that she needed so much help in the kitchen, knowing I wouldn’t say anything because I would figure all this out.” Sensing that she was approaching Yui’s processing limit, Azusa cut herself off.

Yui took her time thinking about Azusa’s version of events. Eventually, she set her drink on the nightstand and yawned lazily. “Huh. Maybe she did. She is pretty smart. You’re pretty smart too, Azu-nyan!”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Azusa responded, taking another sip as the taste started to grow on her. “I’d report this to Ui-chan if I didn’t know that she knows already. And in any case, we have a job to do in here anyways. Let’s find your present so we can get back to the others.”

“We can wait a minute, can’t we?” Yui complained. “I don’t want to spill my drink!”

Azusa frowned. “Then leave it on the nightstand. How can you still be thirsty anyways? We’ve been eating and drinking for hours.”

“I’m always hungry…” Yui whined truthfully.

Though Yui was considering looking for another excuse to avoid work, Azusa’s condescending glare spurred her into action. “Okaaay,” Yui conceded cutely, placing Azusa’s drink next to her own for the younger girl. “I’ve looked everywhere though. I think it’s disappeared.”

With a new perspective from the bed, Azusa took in Yui’s mess. Normally, Yui’s room was kept rather tidy by Ui, with her bed, nightstand, and guitar taking up the far side of the room, a large desk and bookshelf taking up the wall to the right of the entrance on the other side of the room, and a short white table occupying the middle of the room. Three long rectangular windows and a corkboard kept the pink wall company, and the room itself had a very, well, Yui feel to it. Currently, however, she wouldn’t even be able to tell the table was white if she couldn’t see the legs around almost everything Yui owned that wasn’t nailed down covering it. The next move was clear. “Well, let’s start by cleaning things up. It’ll be easier to look when we can walk across your room. You put the books back on the bookshelf. I’ll take care of the trash and the stuff that goes on your desk.” Sitting up from Yui’s bed, taking care to smooth out any wrinkles she had created, Azusa got to work.

Nodding obediently, Yui began to scoop up various manga and picture books that had been scattered across the room. Azusa returned the white table that had been shoved against a wall for some reason to its place in the center of the room. She retrieved the pencils, pens and other writing tools that had been spilled from the pencil holder on Yui’s desk, as well as the various pillows and stuffed animals strewn haphazardly about the room. She placed the pictures that had been removed from Yui’s wall back on the corkboard across from the lone window overlooking Yui’s desk, noticing that one of the photos appeared to be missing. She turned to ask her senpai about it for confirmation, only for the question to die in her throat as she witnessed Yui staring at a thin brown book that had been sitting on the white table. “What’s that?” Azusa asked, noticing that there were no markings on the outside of the book.

Yui looked up, a bit distracted. “Oh, it’s your birthday present,” she answered simply.

Azusa blinked at Yui. Yui blinked back. Lots of reasonable reactions to this information came to mind, but Azusa promptly discarded all of those silly rational thoughts. The junior smiled pleasantly at her senpai, with her expression being uneasily reciprocated. She crossed the room slowly, a tranquil look in her eyes, until she was able to take Yui by the shoulders. “Yui-senpai, is that the present you were going to give me?” she softly inquired.

Squirming a little underneath Azusa’s pressure, Yui nodded. “Yes, but-“

Yui’s attempt at an explanation was destroyed by Azusa shaking her senpai back and forth violently. “You mean to tell me the thing you’re looking for has been sitting on your table for over half an hour?!” she yelled at her airhead of a senpai. “What the hell is wrong with you, you moron?!”

“Azu-nyannnnn, stooooop, pleeeeeas-urp,” Yui begged, turning a light shade of green.

Recognizing the threat Yui suddenly posed to her health, Azusa released her senpai, who immediately crumpled to the ground. Only just now feeling like she had overreacted, Azusa knelt next to Yui, who was leaning on her hands at the table, guiltily rubbing the girl’s back timidly while she recovered. _Why do I keep doing this? I’m still overreacting to everything. Is this because I’m not being diligent enough? Perhaps it is. I’ll have to set about finding a solution that much faster starting tomorrow. _When she had the ability to speak again, Yui clarified herself. “Dizzy… oh, uh, Azu-nyan, what I meant was this is most of your birthday present. Part of it’s missing, and that’s what I can’t find.”

“O-oh, I see,” Azusa answered for the sake of answering, now feeling foolish on top of guilty for how little she thought of her senpai’s searching abilities. “My apologies, Yui-senpai. That was uncalled for. I’m just a bit more stressed than I thought I was, I guess. So, this is the gift?” She reached for the brown book in Yui’s hands.

For half a second, Yui resisted providing Azusa the thin book, but she corrected herself before Azusa could question her behavior, allowing Azusa to take the book in her hands. As she examined the cover further, it became apparent that the book had seen a fair amount of use over the years it had been owned. Light scratches patterned the front and back, and tracing her hand over the spine, Azusa felt creases that could only have been created through extensive use. Now completely free of nausea, Yui scooted over to sit next to her kouhai at the table, staring at her expectantly with less than an armlength between them. Azusa trained her gaze on the book so she didn’t have to face the weight of Yui’s expectations. _What is this supposed to be? Yui-senpai doesn’t read, at least I don’t think she does. It’s at least a few years old. I don’t want to disappoint her, but then again, it’s not like I can’t fake enthusiasm if it’s something strange. _The stillness of the room nearly suffocated Azusa as she stared at the empty brown cover, driving her to take action rather than continue to worry over what would happen when she opened the book.

As soon as her eyes took in the first page, Azusa was blown away by a wave of nostalgia. Nearly two years of images of her time with the Light Music Club were staring back at her. The entire band plus Sawako was represented, but almost all of the pictures had both Yui and Azusa herself in them together. Surrounding each photo were stickers in Yui’s preferred cutesy style, with some even containing little notes pertaining to the photo they appeared next to, telling Azusa exactly which ones Yui thought were cute. Leaning in closer to get a better look, Yui gasped in wonder at most of the photos as if she hadn’t seen them all before, bringing up the associated memories from the day each photo was taken as Azusa flipped through the pages as slowly as possible. The logical side of Azusa’s mind was impressed by how well Yui’s recall of these events was, but the emotional side of her was in complete control of her thoughts and actions, as well as the tears beginning to form in her eyes. Their training camp, the trip to the music festival, practice sessions that ran late into the night, afternoons spent sipping tea and sampling delicacies they’d never be able to obtain under normal circumstances, and their concerts. Azusa felt her heart catch in her throat as she arrived at the pages displaying their concerts, notably the very last one they had performed. Seeing herself, wearing the starred HTT shirt Sawako had made for her and the rest of the band, up on stage with her fellow seniors as the person she had been trying to be ever since that fateful day, was more than the young girl was prepared to handle in the moment. “That was a great day,” Yui noted fondly, following her kouhai’s stare. “Hard to believe it was less than a month ago.”

Yui’s reminder of this fact struck Azusa like lightning. _Less than a month. It hasn’t been that long, and yet I’ve been moping like the girl in this photo is from years ago._ _All this time I’ve spent lamenting that I can never be in these pictures, when I have been the whole time. I’ve… always been there. I never should have acted like they don’t want me around. I never wanted us to change. I still don’t, and we’re changing anyways. But how long do I have until this is the only way I can experience this feeling again? How long until Azusa Nakano is a name, a picture on someone else’s wall, nothing more? Okay, calm down and think it through. Azusa Nakano is logical. A Nakano wouldn’t let things like these concerns prevent her from her pursuit of success. I’m supposed to be in control of things, the one who makes the plans for everyone to keep things running. I can’t afford to lose what I have, even if I don’t deserve it._

Sensing that she might start bawling, be it due to the pictures or her own thoughts that came from them, Azusa hurriedly regained control of herself, flipping to the last page before she lost the ability to do so. Yui hadn’t noticed that Azusa had said nothing since she opened the book, but the senior also fell silent as Azusa arrived at the end of her memory trip. To the younger guitarist’s confusion, the last page was as blank as the cover. “Y-yui-senpai?” Azusa asked tentatively, before coughing to steady her tone. “Yui-senpai, why is the last page blank?”

Whatever innocent wonder had filled up Yui’s expression since opening the photo album was now substituted for something akin to frustration. “That’s the part that’s missing. There’s supposed to be one more picture there, a special one, but I can’t find it. I left it up there.” Yui pointed to the spot on the corkboard where a picture looked like it should have been.

Azusa stared at the blank space. She had never looked very carefully at the pictures Yui had on her wall, besides that one time where she ripped off an embarrassing picture Yui had taken of her while sleeping, and she couldn’t recall which one Yui was referring to. She shook the wayward thought off. “It doesn’t matter which one it is, Yui-senpai. This is the best gift I’ve gotten today. Thank you.” Hoping it would convey her sincerity, Azusa placed a comforting hand on her senpai’s shoulder.

Yui smiled, but her eyes remained distant. “It does matter, Azu-nyan. That picture is the most important picture I have. It’s the only one of its kind.”

Setting the photo album back on the table with the care it deserved, Azusa turned on her knees to face her senpai sitting next to her. “What do you mean? Pictures can be duplicated.”

“Memories can’t,” Yui responded simply. “Azu-nyan, I’m not a good senpai.”

_That’s the understatement of the decade. _“I know,” Azusa responded, not sure what Yui was getting at. “Neither is Ritsu-senpai, but you both have your moments. What’s your point?”

Despite her cringing a little at Azusa’s bluntness, Yui soldiered onward. “Azu-nyan, Mugi-chan said that, if I showed you that picture and explained how important it was, then you’d understand too, and we could go back to normal. She said I had to do it soon, or it would be too late. I thought about that, and it made sense, but then Ricchan told me not to worry about it, that things would go back to normal if I just kept being myself. I want to make things normal again, but I don’t know who’s right, Azu-nyan. I couldn’t even keep track of a photo. They don’t move on their own, Azu-nyan!”

Azusa glanced at the photo album. _Normal normal normal. It always comes back to making things normal. What the hell does that even mean? Haven’t we been getting better? What was the last two hours if it wasn’t normal? Yui-senpai hasn’t been acting herself, though. I’ve been thinking all week about what they’ve been saying to me about Yui-senpai and I hadn’t even considered what they might be saying to her at the same time. I’m sure they mean well, but they’re just confusing Yui-senpai… and me. No, no. I’m not confused anymore. We’re friends, I’m sure of it. That’s what we are. Maybe talking about the photo will help her understand that, and then I can make the others understand, so we can finally figure out a way to move forward together. Yes, that’s what we need to focus on. The way forward has to exist. _“Describe the photo to me, Yui-senpai,” Azusa requested. “If you can’t find it, at least tell me about it.”

The mood in the room lightened considerably as Yui boasted a silly grin over the memory. She rose from her position next to Azusa, wandering over to the corkboard on the other side of the room. “It’s funny, you can’t even see us very well in the picture.” She touched softly the place where the picture would have been, tracing the outline of the empty space. “It’s of Mugi-chan giving a peace sign in front of Ton-chan’s tank, the day we gave him to you. In the background, I’m hugging you from behind. That’s all.”

Azusa racked her brain to bring herself back to that day. She remembered it rather well, her senpai’s misguided attempts to provide her a junior under her leading them to buy Ton for her having left quite the impression. She also remembered the particular event in question that Yui was describing. “You mean when you tackled me while I was looking at Ton-chan?” she thought aloud, now becoming a bit annoyed as she recalled nearly getting killed by being slammed into Ton’s tank. “That’s the most important photo you own?”

Yui nodded, not seeing a problem with Azusa’s interpretation of the photo. “I rely on you and the others for everything. You give me Azu-nyan energy that I need to survive when there’s no cake around. Every day is so much fun with you all. Maybe that’s why I can’t get this problem out of my head, because everything is too good right now.” She paused for a long moment. “I sound pretty sappy right now, but our band is the main reason I get out of bed in the morning besides food. By myself, without you all, I’m back to powerless Yui.”

The explanation refused to sit right with Azusa, in spite of how Yui it sounded. “You’re not that dependent on us, Yui-senpai. I’ve seen firsthand how naturally talented you are, how motivated you can be when you feel like it. When you bother to try, nothing stops you.” _For better or for worse._

Removing her hand from the corkboard, Yui returned to the table, sitting crisscross opposite her junior. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m a lot better around you all,” Yui insisted. “You’re all really special to me, and that’s what keeps me going. But, the reason I wanted to show you that picture last was because it’s the only picture I have of me hugging you where I can’t see your face.”

Unaware of how incredibly rude her word choice was out of context, Yui was more than a little surprised when Azusa glared at her senpai for her comment. “What? What’s wrong with my face?!” Azusa indignantly demanded.

A small giggle left Yui as she recovered immediately. “Whenever I hug you in a photo, you always look so surprised, Azu-nyan, like you weren’t expecting it. It’s really cute. But when you don’t look like that, you look annoyed, like I’m forcing a burden on you. That’s cute too, but I know you don’t like those hugs as much, and I can’t enjoy them either then. In this picture, though, I can’t see your face, and I can pretend you’re enjoying it just as much as I do.”

No appropriate response came to Azusa for that statement. _This is a bit heavier than I anticipated. Yui-senpai has such a massive problem with my personal space that I had no idea she actually thought about how I felt. That just raises the question of why she does it anyways. But… damn it, I don’t outright hate her hugs. Fine, I can admit that. There’s nothing strange about liking being hugged, although Yui-senpai’s hug quantity is a bit excessive. But do I really want to get into this right now? I guess I don’t have a choice. So much for taking it easy today. If it makes Yui-senpai feel better, it’s worth a shot, because she knows how to make everyone feel better._

Azusa rose from her own seat, making her way over to her forlorn senpai. She wrapped her arms around her senpai’s back, making sure she was smiling, even if Yui couldn’t see it. Blindsided, Yui didn’t immediately respond. With only a regular shirt on, Azusa could feel the warmth of Yui’s arms as they carefully rose to meet the embrace they found themselves in. “You’re wrong, senpai. It’s not that I hate your hugs. You just have a habit of picking the worst possible times for a hug, like when we’re trying to take a photo. Like I told you, it gives people the wrong idea. When people need a hug, though, it’s okay to hug them.”

“I’m sorry I’m so selfish, Azu-nyan,” Yui apologized, staring at her feet. “It’s not fair, and I know it, but I’m doing my best to give you what you want. I want us to be the way we were, but I don’t at the same time. I want what you want, and I don’t, and I don’t know which part of me is telling the truth. It’s confusing!” With the exclamation, Yui kicked her feet out and threw her hands in the air, shaking Azusa off amidst the steam rising from Yui’s head.

Catching herself before she could tumble into the wall, Azusa decided to forgive Yui as she steadied herself, citing her own frustrations with the whole situation. This magnanimity didn’t extend to Azusa not glaring at her senpai as she sheepishly apologized for her outburst when she turned to face her kouhai. When she was done groveling, Yui settled herself back into her previous position, giving Azusa a thoughtful stare. “Do you remember what you said last Sunday? About not moving?”

Replaying the conversation in her head didn’t give Azusa any relevant results. “I’m not sure I said anything like that. It was more of a…” Azusa blushed at the memory of her own defiance. “I just couldn’t sit by and let you keep running away from your problem,” she eventually settled on admitting, leaning against the wall shyly.

“Yes, that.” Yui confirmed. “I want to talk with you about something important, Azu-nyan. Something that’s been bugging me for a while. I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it, though.”

“Do you mean graduation?” Azusa guessed.

A nod was the only confirmation Yui provided. The senior sighed, standing up just to flop down on her bed, face up. “I can’t make the feeling go away, Azu-nyan. It’s bigger than just being worried about my future. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, because then they’d have the feeling too, and that wouldn’t be fair, but I can’t keep it bottled up anymore.” She spread her arms out over her head in a unique stretching motion. “I want to talk to someone who understands about it.”

Pulling herself off the wall, Azusa sat against the white table, facing her senpai, the photo album left on the table behind her. “Then talk,” she commanded her senpai. “Talk to me. If nothing else, I can listen.” The feeling of wanting to protect her senpai, the face of her band, surged within Azusa once more, and she fought the urge to simply give in to her emotions and unleash the concerns rising within her vehemently. _Relax, Nakano. If Yui-senpai has something to say, be a good kouhai and hear her out. _

Nothing was spoken for a few moments. Even with the tense air between them, Azusa found herself strangely relaxed. Yui’s presence, for all the unwanted contact if forced Azusa to prepare for, could be rather calming, though usually only when the girl was actively doing something else, such as playing her instrument. Yui continued to lie dormant on the bed with her legs dangling off the side, Azusa waiting patiently for a sign of life from her senpai. _This is… different. Is this issue why she’s been acting so weird today? Mou, how many times is graduation going to keep messing with us?_

When Yui sat up once more, the distant expression had returned. At this point, Azusa found herself expecting that particular thorn in her side, though it didn’t make it any less frustrating to see. “Like I told you, Azu-nyan, your hugs and my time with the others give me my energy. When I realized a while ago that I was going to have to go back to being without that soon, I… I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. I can’t just shove it away like my other worries, it keeps coming back. I can’t not be with you guys anymore, Azu-nyan. I’m supposed to be an adult soon, but I can’t even picture waking up without Ui’s help half the time. I can’t do my homework without Mio-chan’s help. I depend on Ricchan’s friendship when you and Mio-chan are being bossy. Mugi-chan’s sweets are more important to me than breathing, and she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. But there’s nothing we can do about graduation, and I can’t not think about it. I don’t want to go back to being the person I was three years ago. I mean, I’m still Yui, but Yui is better with other people, like curry and rice. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sad, Azu-nyan.”

Azusa tilted her head. “Yui-senpai, we’re all sad about graduation. Nobody would think less of you for that. Not me, or any of us, and not Ui.”

Yui shook her head, her tone growing in desperation. “But I’m scared too, Azu-nyan! I don’t know what to do, and they don’t either! I don’t want to stop playing with you all! I love you guys!”

There was an easy way to respond to that particular sentence, resting eagerly on the tip of Azusa’s tongue. It would be too simple to throw Yui’s claim of love back in her face, so Azusa held herself back. A part of her couldn’t bring herself to cross that line, even platonically. She loved the Light Music Club and what it meant to her, but she drew a firm line at using that word on Yui, now wary of how words could be misinterpreted. Instead, she resolved to be the reassurance her senpai was grasping for through other means. _Yui-senpai always needs a shoulder to lean on, in way more ways than one. If she’s finally willing to be as honest as possible, then I need to encourage her, so she feels alright about opening up to the others. If I can’t reassure her, I can’t reassure myself. _“Senpai, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” Azusa asserted with no precedent. “Don’t think about holding us back, because you don’t. I know I don’t say it often, or ever, but I respect you, in a weird sort of way. Your optimism keeps me and everyone else going. You don’t have to always be happy to do that, either. I think the others would feel better if you opened up to them about this too.”

To Azusa’s chagrin, her encouragement only discouraged Yui, and she slapped a hand against the bed. “Don’t tell me that! Can’t you see, Azu-nyan? All I’ve been able to focus on since the performance is what’s coming. I’ve tried to forget, I’ve tried to find a solution, and I’ve tried to keep everyone else happy until I could, but it’s so tiring. I’m running out of energy faster and faster, Azu-nyan. I’m directing my frustration at people that don’t deserve it, like you. I’m so, so sorry.” Yui continued to mumble apologies as she turned over, back and forth on her bed, her words muffled by the sheets.

It was more unnerving to Azusa that Yui wasn’t crying than the alternative. Her mind ran through the last several days as she searched for the right thing to say. _Yui-senpai… I should be apologizing. I haven’t been thinking at all about how hard this must be for you and the others. I’ve just been an observer looking in, watching everyone try to be happy for each other, pretending everything is okay. Yui-senpai, you’re the core of our band. You’re the one that never fails to make everyone smile. Why would you try to prevent us from knowing how much this was hurting you? What am I thinking, of course she’d have some stupid reason to pretend everything is fine, it’s what we’ve all been doing. She said as much over a week ago, and I still haven’t let it sink in. _Azusa Nakano rose, small hands balling into fists at her sides. _Fine then. This is for the band, nothing more._

When Yui Hirasawa noticed her kouhai standing over her, she ceased her rolling around, looking up at the girl with curiously sad eyes. “Can I tell you something important too, Yui-senpai?” Azusa asked, using everything she had to remain confident, while offering her senpai a hand to stand up.

Yui took Azusa’s hand in her own tightly, not sure what was happening. When she did, Azusa placed her other hand on top of Yui’s, pulling the brunette up easily. The two of them stood in Yui’s room, only the dying natural light from the windows providing visibility. “I’m only going to say this once, and if you try to tell anyone, I’ll deny it, and they’ll believe me because you’re an airhead.” A blush appeared on Yui’s face as Azusa spoke, inspiring Azusa to continue before her senpai came to a horrible misunderstanding.

“Look, I think you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met,” Azusa admitted. “You’re lazy, unmotivated, and often inconsiderate, but I’ve never met anyone who stays as true to themselves as you do.”

The slowly brightening smile on Yui’s face dimmed when Azusa let go of her hand. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s why you’re going to be fine without us next year, without me. You’ll find someone else to get your energy from, something else. You can do that because you’re far stronger than you think, Yui-senpai, and the love you have for others is what powers you and everyone around you. You might think you’re taking from us, but what you give far exceeds anything you could possibly take. It’s infuriating, and it’s why I-“ Azusa froze, taking a moment to recollect her thoughts before she said something she’d regret. “It’s why everyone really cares about and would do anything for you, Yui-senpai.”

A single sigh from Yui was enough to blow all of Azusa’s claims away. “If making people feel like that is just going to hurt everyone when we have to go our separate ways, I don’t want to do it anymore, Azu-nyan. Maybe I should just be a NEET with Giita.”

Resisting the urge to slap her senpai, Azusa settled for a withering stare. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. “Don’t spit on everything we’ve worked to create together by giving up on pursuing your future. There could be something even better waiting just around the-”

“Azusa, I don’t want a future without HTT!” Yui fired back, a rage in her eyes that was foreign to Azusa. “What don’t you understand? How can you just be okay with leaving behind the people you love forever, for no other reason than fate? How are you okay with that?”

“How can I be okay with that?” Azusa echoed dumbly, taking a step backwards. “How am I okay with that?”

It was a simple question, the sort of thing Azusa had just sort assumed she knew the solution to so well that she didn’t even attempt to answer it. As she racked her brain for the proper response, however, nothing came to her. It was as if the query had drained every bit of information needed to respond the second it entered her head. The room around Azusa grew smaller as she concentrated, reaching out for the answer she didn’t want to hear. _You’re asking me, of all people, how can I be okay with losing the four of you? Well, that’s easy. I’m not._

In internally admitting it to herself, everything became perfectly clear to Azusa. Her eyes widened in understanding, the fact she had been burying as deep as she possibly could within herself having finally dragged itself back into her conscious memory. Her head began throbbing, the presentation of an unsolvable problem hurting the logical part of her. “All this time, I’ve just been ignoring the truth,” she whispered, nearly out of Yui’s earshot. “I can’t, Yui-senpai.”

Confused, Yui reached out a hand tentatively to her kouhai. “You can’t?” she asked hesitantly.

When Yui’s hand got close, Azusa slapped it away, losing her ability to focus on the room around her as things started to blur. She felt bad about the hurt she could barely make out in Yui’s eyes. She felt worse knowing that it wouldn’t be long before she could never see those eyes again. “No, I can’t. I can’t do it. I’ve told myself so many times, that I’m going to solve the problem, make amends, keep us together, but I can’t change my age, Yui-senpai. There’s nothing any of us can do.”

As soon as she managed to spit the words out, Azusa completely broke. The dam she had been building within herself for weeks collapsed horribly all at once. Her mind raced at a pace far too fast for her to follow, a torrent of anxious worries and dangerous musings flooding her. _I can’t do it I can’t I can’t be without them I need Yui-senpai and Mio-senpai and Mugi-senpai and Ritsu-senpai we’re a band I’m Azusa Nakano and I’m part of HTT I need them I love them please don’t go please please pleasepleasedon’tgoplease_

Searching for any sort of solid object to pull herself away from reality, Azusa stumbled forward blindly. Her leg bumped into what had to be the nightstand, and Azusa allowed herself to collapse against it instantly. The broken kouhai took in the feeling of the wooden surface on her back, the only feeling she wanted to accept as real in the moment. She knew she was crying, bawling, as she sat there against the nightstand, but she had stopped attempting to process the world around her already. Senses of touch and hearing became dull, useless as the person in control of them. All she could comprehend was the searing sensation running through her brain. Yui said something to her, but it sounded like she was underwater, the words coming out in a jumbled mess that couldn’t be processed. Despite this, Azusa felt drawn to the voice, reaching out with her own in an automatic response she had never wanted to admit she had. “Don’t leave me, please! Don’t go! I promise I’ll be a better kouhai! I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll wear cat ears forever, just please don’t leave me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I-I-I-“

Speaking itself became in insurmountable obstacle for Azusa, her breathing approaching the level of hyperventilating. She slammed her head against the nightstand in uncontrolled rage, feeling an infuriating amount of nothing from the impact. Her mind and mouth were no longer connected, and the world around her consisted only of herself and the truth that she had attempted to flee from for nearly a month. _Why why why fate?! Why would you bless me with such incredible senpais and friends just to take them away?! Do I really not deserve them that much?! What do I have to do?! Please, what can I do to make this right?! _

A sticky liquid made contact with Azusa’s stomach and legs, but she could barely see herself through her sobbing. Her nose began to run from the exertion, and she leaned her back more heavily against the hard surface she had fallen against for stability. _This has to be a bad dream. Yui-senpai doesn’t have our problems. Mio-senpai and Ritsu-senpai are arguing downstairs while Mugi-senpai serves tea. Ui-chan and Jun-chan and I are going to hang out tomorrow. We’re not going to separate. I’m going to wake up soon, right? This can’t be the end of the photo album, all there is. I’m not ready to go yet!_

Azusa’s body left the ground. She was in too much of a daze to understand what was happening, but the involuntary movement inspired her to at least attempt to dry her eyes. She considered kicking out, but found herself completely drained of energy. When her eyes began to clear once more, she saw the face of her senpai, looking more worried and scared than Azusa had ever seen her. When Yui noticed recognition in Azusa’s eyes, she said something, but Azusa still couldn’t make it out. All sense of reason eluded Azusa. Whatever precedents she had worked years to build between herself and her senpais, all attempts to appear like a composed and competent daughter of the Nakano family had been obliterated in a matter of a minute or two. There was only one thing Azusa was still certain of, between all the people and things in her world changing. She found enough feeling in her hands to wrap them tightly around where she assumed her senpai was, the slight change in Yui’s expression enough to convince Azusa she had found her target. Azusa could feel panic clawing at every part of her, but found the strength of will to steady her breathing, at least long enough to speak. “Yui, promise me you’ll never leave me alone,” she asked pitifully, gripping fiercely at the only person she knew still existed in the moment.

If Yui responded, Azusa didn’t see or hear it. Her head was buried into her senpai’s chest. As she held this position for an inordinate amount of time, her thoughts gradually became intelligible once more, just in time for the exhaustion of her outburst to catch up to her. _You’re selfish, huh, Yui-senpai? Well, how about this? This has to be more selfish than anything you’ve done. Heh. Azu-nyan wins again… I… have to win…_

This delirious thought was one of Azusa’s last before she lost consciousness to the sound of someone screaming about blood and barnacles.

* * *

**November 13th, 11:49 PM**

Today had not been a great day for Ui Hirasawa, but she knew better than the pretend she had the worst of things. All she had managed to do today was fail in her duty as a host to entertain everyone. She didn’t even get the chance to apologize to most of her guests before they unceremoniously left. When Mio had screamed bloody murder, she and the others had rushed upstairs to see what was wrong. Chaos had ensued when two girls had been found unconscious, but it was Sawako of all people that had taken charge of the situation. The teacher ended up taking Mio and Ritsu home, Ritsu volunteering to explain to Mio’s parents what had happened should Mio not wake up in time. Though Ui would have preferred to send Azusa home with them, Yui had insisted she spend the night, and the look on her face was impossible to disagree with. One phone call to Azusa’s parents courtesy of Tsumugi later, Azusa was her guest for the evening. Once she was certain that Azusa was alright and wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, Tsumugi had called for her own ride, insisting that she be contacted if needed. Though she would normally be reluctant to contact someone with as many hidden agendas as Tsumugi, Ui was grateful for any sort of support at this point. Aside from watching over Azusa, Yui had been all but useless for this entire process, with Ui handling the rapid sendoff of all her guests. _I hope Onee-chan’s okay. Whatever happened up there must have bothered her quite a bit. Mou, she doesn’t even know what happened downstairs while she was gone. Maybe she tried confessing? No, that wouldn’t cause Azusa-chan to pass out, I think. _Thinking of Azusa only inspired Ui to worry. _Relax, Ui. There’s nothing I can do except let her rest. Sawako-sensei said as much herself, and she’s supposed to have basic medical training. _Peeking into her sister’s room, Ui confirmed that Azusa was, in fact, still asleep on Yui’s bed, where she had been since Yui had placed her there hours ago.

Said Yui had vanished downstairs, imploring her sister to keep an eye on their guest while she did who knows what. Normally, Ui would have objected, but if her sister thought what she was doing was important enough to warrant leaving her kouhai behind, Ui wasn’t going to object. From her position at the door to the room, Ui observed the impeccable cleaning job she had silently done while waiting for Azusa to wake up. The fruit punch had been rather difficult to get out of the carpet without making noise, but Ui had dealt with worse. Her sister could pay her back by getting rid of all the food Ui had discovered behind her nightstand. “What happened today, Azusa-chan?” Ui whispered, wishing her friend would wake up, if only so she would have someone to talk to. “I didn’t want stopping Mugi-senpai to come at a cost like this.”

Even if her actions had nothing to do with the current situation, Ui felt a bit of culpability. She had only acted in the best interest of her friends, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she should have let Yui present her gift the way Tsumugi had originally intended. _Well, I won’t know until Azusa-chan wakes up. I should focus on what I can do right now, like making sure my sister is able to wake up on time tomorrow._

Doubt still picked away at Ui’s mind as she wandered downstairs, looking to retrieve her older sister for bedtime. _You need to keep your head right now, Ui. Azusa-chan will be fine. I need to take care of Onee-chan. _Silently imploring Azusa to be strong while she was gone, Ui jumped quietly down the rest of the stairs, looking for her sister.

Finding nothing on the second floor aside from a lonely looking Giita, Ui continued down to the first floor, shivering as she noticed the front door was open. Briefly terrified that someone had broken in, Ui relaxed at the sight of her sister on the front porch. Still clad in only the blue t-shirt and shorts she had chosen to wear today, it was a small miracle her skin wasn’t as blue as her shirt. Gasping, Ui practically dove into the boot cabinet and pulled out Yui’s scarf, heavy jacket, and mittens, hurrying them out to her older sister. Yui’s head turned slightly at the commotion, but she returned to looking out at the sky just as quickly, even as Ui draped the scarf around Yui’s neck and practically smothered her with her jacket. Brushing the light layer of snow that had collected on the top of Yui’s head away, Ui placed her hands on her hips authoritatively. “Onee-chan, what are you doing out here?” Ui half-asked, half-berated, confused at how Yui was tolerating the freezing temperatures while dressed so inadequately. “Come inside before you get sick.”

“I’m waiting for Azu-nyan to wake up though,” Yui insisted, her voice too normal for someone covered in equal amounts of snow and winter clothing in places they weren’t supposed to be. “Did she wake up?”

Befuddled in the way only her sister could make her feel, Ui took a second to compose herself. “Eh? No, she’s still sleeping. Why wait out here? Why not wait in your room?”

Yui frowned, looking away. “I can’t, Ui. I messed up again. She probably thinks she messed up, but it’s my fault for pushing her again. I keep trying to make everyone happy, and I just end up worrying you and hurting Azu-nyan. I don’t want to hurt Azu-nyan. I don’t know what to do anymore. What do I do, Ui?”

Ui didn’t have an answer for her sister. She was fairly certain that nobody would, considering an actual question hadn’t been asked. _Perhaps it’s a good thing she wasn’t present for the argument the others were having. I’ll wait for Azusa-chan to wake up to explain it to her so she can help Onee-chan understand. _“You could talk to me about anything, Onee-chan,” Ui offered. “But I’d prefer that we do it inside.”

“It’s actually not that bad out here,” Yui lied, dodging the actual issue at hand. “The snow is pretty. Winter is nice when it isn’t too cold.” The freezing weather outside agreed.

Before Ui could attempt to drag Yui back on track, the senior corrected herself. “Mou, I don’t know about talking, though. I don’t want what happened to Azu-nyan to happen to you. I love you too, Ui.”

A deep blush came from Ui at her sister’s candid tone. She didn’t think she could ever get tired of hearing her sister say those words. “Hold on for just a second,” she requested, retreating into the house.

Several moments of frantic searching later, Ui returned with a heavy jacket, her own scarf, a blanket, and two pairs of slippers. Despite her efforts at stoicism, Yui couldn’t help by eye the warm goods desperately. Draping her sister in protection against the cold, Ui clothed herself and wrapped the blanket around the two of them. “If you’re going to be out here, I’m going to be out here,” Ui decided. “I’m never leaving your side, Onee-chan. You can always rely on me. Take your time thinking about what to say.”

Yui’s smile was warmer than anything Ui could have brought outside. For a brief moment, the two sisters sat quietly, the older resting her head on the younger, a canvas of stars lighting up snowflakes that fluttered around aimlessly, leaving the smell of fresh snowfall in the air behind them. “Are we going to be okay?” Yui asked, ending the great day Ui had suddenly been having. “Everyone seemed pretty upset when they left, and nobody explained what was going on with Mio-chan.”

Deciding to be vague with how much she explained for now, Ui nodded. “You missed an argument, but it’s not a big deal,” she reassured. “I think they were just upset that the party had to end a little early, and Mio-senpai freaked out when she saw Azusa-chan covered in that red juice. I’m confiscating your secret stash, by the way. It’ll attract bugs.”

“Meanie,” Yui accused. “Azu-nyan said you wouldn’t do that.”

Assuming Yui was lying, Ui gave her sister a stern mother type of look. “Azusa-chan doesn’t live here, we do. Besides, she’s asleep, so you can’t put words in her mouth like that.”

The older brunette crossed her arms, nearly pulling the blanket away from Ui in the process. “She did say that though!” Yui looked up at the sky, her pouting face disappearing to be replaced by a thoughtful one. “Ne, Ui, what should I do about Azu-nyan?”

“Are you referring to how you, um, feel?” Ui confirmed, still not quite used to addressing the topic so casually.

Nodding, stars shone in Yui’s eyes, a stark contrast to her expressionless features. “Everyone told me different things. Ricchan wanted me to say nothing. Mugi-chan wanted me to tell her as soon as possible, and she’s been trying really hard to help Azusa-chan and me out in her own way all week. What she said to you yesterday proves that. Mio-chan has been trying to find a way to keep everyone together so I don’t have to figure it out myself. Azu-nyan… is doing her best. I want to do my best too.” She reached out towards the stars with one hand, clenching it into a fist.

Ui fought the urge to impart her own opinion on the matter. As badly as she wanted to help her sister, she knew better than to further confound the problem for Yui by mixing in her own selfish desires. “Just listen to who makes the most sense,” she attempted to advise, pulling a little of the blanket back around her against a sudden wind gust.

“But they’re all right,” Yui sighed. “I know them, Ui. They may not agree, but I can tell that they’re all doing what their hearts are telling them to do, so I don’t think any of them are wrong. It’s like the stars, ne? They all shine differently, from different places, but at the end of the night, they’re all still stars, and they shine the brightest together. That’s why I believe in everyone in Ho-kago Tea Time, in my friends.”

As Yui continued to stare out at the uncaring night sky, Ui found herself awestruck. _Following their hearts? That’s what you got out of listening to what everyone, even Mugi-senpai is doing, what they’ve been trying to convince you to do or not do? That’s… kind. That’s such an Onee-chan thing to say. No matter what happens, no matter how upset you get about anything, you never fail to try to see the best of things in the end, of people. That’s why the last few weeks have been so hard, ne? And now the whole Azusa-chan thing is making things more complicated. Well, your younger sister has had enough. I’m not going to let this be just about you any longer. We’re all we have, damn it. I need Onee-chan to see that in me._

Digging into her apron pocket, Ui withdrew the missing photo from Yui’s wall. “I’d like to return this to you, Onee-chan,” Ui offered, holding out the photo invitingly.

Turning at the sound of Ui’s voice, Yui’s eyes widened at the sight of her missing present. She started to attempt to snatch the photo, only to stop herself halfway through the motion. Ui frowned, tilting her head in a silent demand for an explanation. “I had a feeling you had it,” Yui admitted. “I’m not mad, because if you took it, then you must have had a good reason for it. Things worked out, though, because Azu-nyan helped me find an answer while we were looking for it. Because of that, I don’t think I need it anymore.”

Ui allowed the photo to rest in her lap, though she kept a hand over it for protection. “You don’t need it? Why not?” she questioned, the tightening in her heart telling her she knew the answer already.

Yui grinned childishly. “Well, Azu-nyan asked me to stay by her side. I thought about everything everyone said, and while Azu-nyan isn’t right about everything, especially cakes and practicing, I think she’s right about this. So, I’m going to make sure I do my best for her and the band by staying with her and the others as long as I can. I’ll leave the planning to everyone else, since that’s what they’re good at.” The senior took note of the slightly forlorn look Ui was trying to hide at the news. “Oh, Ui, don’t worry, you’re still my soulmate! I’ll still come home in time for dinner, I promise!”

Watching her older sister attempt to reassure her was comforting, but not because of what Yui was saying. _That’s just Onee-chan, though. I always knew that part of her growing up would include something like this, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. But I’m someone too. Hearing Onee-chan confirm it proves it. _“I know you will, Onee-chan. So, you don’t want the picture back?” she teased lightly, waving it in the air. “I could always just get rid of it.”

As expected, Yui dove for the picture, nearly headbutting her sister in the process. Ui held the picture back from the guitarist’s assault, the reaching match that ensued nearly knocking both girls into the snow. “Onee-chan, I’ll give this back to you, but I want to have that talk first, the one you promised me a few days ago. Do you remember?”

For now, Yui ceased her photo retrieval operation. She put a finger to her chin, doing her best to recall what Ui mentioned. Just as Ui prepared to explain things again, Yui’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! I did promise that. And you’re right, Ui, I owe this to you. Things need to change from here on in, so I’ll start by telling you everything. I need to be mature about this and do what I should have been doing, so I don’t mess things up again.” Though Ui wasn’t sure if she could ever see her older sister as truly mature, she appreciated the effort Yui was putting in as she sat up straight, thinking hard about her next words. She knew, deep down, that things were going to change from tomorrow on, just as Tsumugi and now Yui herself claimed. The only question left to answer now was how she was going to respond to it.

“Ummm, I guess I’ll start from after the cultural festival.” Right as Yui began to recall waking up in the clubroom after their last performance, her alarm clock flipped over to midnight, signaling the beginning of a new day.


	14. Dreams!

**November 14th, 12:05 AM**

Light snowfall pattered without a sound against the windows, conspiring with the lightless room to mask the passing of midnight. In spite of the embargo on outside contact the room had enjoyed since the sun had set, for no discernable reason, the steady rise and fall of the blankets chose this moment in particular to stutter in its pattern. Their captive stirred, hours of inactivity dulling her senses. Bleary eyes blinked several times, dramatically flailing against the tendrils of unconsciousness that clung to them like stubborn cobwebs. Without light to tell the girl what the outside world looked like; it was impossible to discern which side was winning. Sitting up might have helped her body win its duel with drowsiness, but even lifting her head to check the time was proving to be an insurmountable challenge. The drumbeat of the fastest song ever recorded was being hammered into the back of Azusa Nakano’s skull. _Ugh. Shit. Why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck? What did I do last night?_

With herculean effort, Azusa managed to drag her unresponsive body through a rolling motion, her head lolling painfully to one side with it to check the time. Instead of her nightstand and alarm clock, however, Azusa was met with a wall, the darkness only just barely dimming the garish pink paint job slathered over it. As she moved, a crinkling sound murdered the tranquil silence of Azusa’s environment, a fact she paid no mind to. The kouhai squinted, uncertain if she was still dreaming or not. _That’s odd. My walls aren’t pink. And my bed is facing the wrong way. Or I am. Or this isn’t my room. _Sluggishly, Azusa’s mind struggled to determine which of her musings was correct based on the facts she knew.

“I don’t have pink walls…” Azusa muttered drowsily to nobody in particular. “Yui-senpai does though. I should get pink walls. She’d like that.” While she wasn’t much of an interior decorator, Azusa could appreciate the necessity for adding color to a room through its walls, especially when so many of the rooms in her own home lacked it.

Having resolved the only trying issue in her mind, Azusa rolled over to go back to sleep, only for the crinkling noise to echo throughout the room once more. Now annoyed, Azusa pawed at the general direction of the sound, which happened to be her head. Her search immediately bore fruit, some sort of hat meeting Azusa’s groping fingers rather than her black hair. Yanking the offending article into her limited field of vision, Azusa squinted at it, the form of a slightly crumpled paper crown greeting her. “Oh yeah, the party,” Azusa sighed in relief, grateful that it wasn’t something important.

The kouhai tossed the crown to the floor callously and properly collapsed into Yui’s bed. Accomplishing tasks, even mundane ones, always improved her mood, and in this case assisted in easing her back to her previous task of resting. The peaceful embrace of sleep was all of five seconds away from claiming Azusa once more before her eyes snapped open, the reality of her situation finally coming to light. “Yui-senpai!” the kouhai gasped, sitting straight up and sending the blanket she had been under flying off the bed.

A terrified head whirled around, dilated pupils sweeping the room for the last thing they had seen before falling unconscious. Though it was difficult to see her own hands in front of her face, there was no sort of shape that even resembled a person nearby, let alone Azusa’s senpai. Placing her hands on the bed to steady herself, Azusa allowed the tsunami that was the last 12 hours to crash against the shore of her memory, washing away whatever delusions of bliss grogginess had granted her. She trembled at every mistake she had made, reliving them over and over again as they invaded her every thought. _The party. Yui-senpai and I were talking, looking for her present, she was acting weird and saying a bunch of confusing stuff, and then she asked how I can be okay with her leaving, and I… I said… _Azusa’s mind began to cloud once more, the specifics of her meltdown scattered into various bits of emotion and feelings that formed an unsatisfactory portrait of the event. _I said something about how I don’t want her to go, there was a nightstand, I couldn’t hear anything, and something spilled on me after I hit my head. _The throbbing sensation in the back of Azusa’s skull corroborated her recollection nicely.

Inspecting herself to make sure she didn’t have a concussion, Azusa abruptly realized that her hoodie had disappeared, leaving her with her pale green undershirt. Under normal circumstances, she’d have been mortified at just the thought of being undressed in her sleep, but other concerns superseded her pride for the moment. Once she had tested her balance and ability to perform basic arithmetic, she felt confident enough in her mental state to start berating herself over her actions. _I messed up. Damn it, I messed up! Being upset about the future, wanting time by myself is one thing, but crying and whining like a baby in front of Yui-senpai is another thing entirely. How am I supposed to face them as their equal after something like that?! I can’t just foist all of my problems on my senpais as their kouhai. Mou, they throw me a party, do their best to get things back to normal, and what do I do? I have a panic attack. I haven’t learned anything at all. _In a building rage, Azusa slugged the bed, her fist bouncing off the mattress ineffectually.

“You had a simple job, Azusa,” the guitarist hissed to herself. “Go to a party, have fun, enjoy some time with your friends. How’d you manage to mess that up? They’re dealing with this too, but you’re the only one crying about it. You idiot!” Noticing that her voice was getting louder, Azusa fell silent, suddenly desperate not to wake up her potentially sleeping hosts and cause more trouble than she already had.

Seeking any sort of nonverbal stimulation to appease her aggravated adrenaline, Azusa rose from the bed and began to pace around the white table. Since nobody had come to her, she had to assume she wasn’t currently being watched, or the others were heavy sleepers. It was also probably a safe bet that Ui and Yui were the only ones left in the house, since it was a school night and nobody had been prepared to go to school straight from Yui’s house, herself included. She caught the cheerful stares of her senpais in one of Yui’s pictures and sped up so she didn’t have to look at them. _I’m holding them back. Was it really a mistake to think I could fit in with people who can perform like they do? Our personalities never meshed in the first place, so perhaps that’s why they can get through this just by ignoring things. Maybe… maybe they aren’t even taking graduation seriously. The others are changing too. No, that’s wrong. Yui-senpai wouldn’t lie to me about how she’s feeling. She’s being honest with herself about not knowing what to do. If anything, I’m the one who’s been lying to myself. _In her effort to get away from the eyes of her senpais, Azusa rounded the table and ended up directly facing them once more. She frowned at her senpai’s smiles. _Mou, this is getting me nowhere. If I could just remember exactly what I said, maybe I could find a way to play it off with Yui-senpai, so she’ll let me stay. If I want to stay with HTT, I can’t become their burden too. I’m supposed to be the mature one. I have to be mature. _Thinking that way felt more and more like a boldfaced lie as an image of herself huddled against the nightstand flashed in her mind. “Who am I kidding?” she whispered, pausing by the nightstand. “I’m the only one here who can’t seem to function properly anymore without them. That’s the truth of it.”

Taking the second to look over the spot of her own failure, Azusa took a note of the time on the analog alarm clock. A second major problem popped up in her mind, halting her wallowing for a second. _Oh right, my parents aren’t going to let this slide. I can’t exactly tell them I was planning on staying until the date rolled over at this point. Knowing my luck, this will be the one thing they decided to pay attention to this week. I’ll need to sneak home and hope they somehow didn’t notice I was gone this long. _Azusa went for her hoodie pocket to retrieve her phone to call a ride, only to remember she was down one article of clothing. _Great. Fantastic, even. She better have a life-threatening reason for stealing my hoodie, that moron. _

Azusa wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk to either Hirasawa sister at the moment, assuming they were the only ones in the house, or even conscious. On one hand, it would be nice to know where her senpai’s empty head was at after the stunt she had just pulled, but the chances of that place being somewhere Azusa was now excluded from deterred her curiosity. Ui wouldn’t be as difficult to face, but she firmly doubted her ability to safely interact with Ui without drawing the attention of her older sister. Clenching her slender fingers into fists, Azusa closed her eyes. “Think. Make a plan. I need to find my phone, hoodie, and bag, apologize to Ui-chan and Yui-senpai, and leave before they ask too many questions. Worry about dealing with the fallout when you can see straight.” Running through the half-baked plan several times in her head, Azusa convinced herself that she had things under control.

Steps that had definitely supported Azusa perfectly on the trip upstairs creaked and groaned as she made her way back to the living room. She cringed with each wayward noise, praying that she hadn’t drawn the ire of every person in the house and their neighbors. Holding her breath, Azusa poked her head out from the bottom of the stairs as her eyes adjusted to the bright room, sighing in relief when she didn’t see anyone on the second floor. Guilty as her conscience was, Azusa wasn’t about to run into her hosts on any terms but her own if she could help it. Looking into the artificially lit living room, Azusa confirmed her school bag had been relocated to the kotatsu, and that nobody was nearby to see her. Rushing over to the bag quickly, Azusa took inventory of her things. Though her hoodie was still absent, all of the presents she had received, even Ritsu’s joy buzzer and Tsumugi’s absurdly large cat plushie had been neatly stuffed away in her bag. Yui’s picture book sat separately, open to an image of the band during their first summer training camp together. Relieved that at least one thing was still the way it should be, Azusa’s eyes roamed, searching for her missing article of clothing or her phone. Regrettably, her plan of apologizing to her senpai through a rushed goodbye from the front door was looking less and less feasible. When her eyes caught the gleam of the crescent moonlight off of Giita, still sitting on the couch by itself, her roving attention was suddenly honed on one place. “You,” Azusa spat, disgust flowing from her unapologetically. “This is all your fault.”

Giita didn’t dignify the slanderous accusation with a response, remaining as still as an abandoned guitar. “If you hadn’t taken so long to clean, I might have made it to the party on time, and Yui-senpai wouldn’t have acted so weird all day. What’s so special about you, huh? Why does Yui-senpai like you so much? Because you’re cute? Join the club. Must be nice, not having to worry about your future. Objects don’t have to think. It’s weird for objects to think.” Azusa would have continued belittling the instrument all night had she not realized how foolish her reflection looked on the guitar’s surface.

The malice evaporated from Azusa’s features as she returned her gaze to her bag. She wasn’t going to let Yui’s guitar of all things be the catalyst for the death of her sanity. The sound of faint laughter ringing in her ears didn’t help matters much. _Wait… laughter?_ Azusa perked her ears, straining to pick up the source of the novel sound.

Though she waited silently, the noise didn’t return. She had given up and begun organizing the contents of her bag when the sound returned, slightly clearer this time. Voices drifted from the stairs leading to the entryway, enticing Azusa to investigate. Silently, as if she was approaching a stray animal, Azusa made her way to the stairs, creeping down until the front door came into view. To her shock, it was wide open, and sitting outside, covered in blankets, jackets and snow, were the Hirasawa sisters. Intrigued, Azusa crept closer, the moth forgetting itself in favor of chasing the flame that had caught its eye. As she reached the front door, the voices became distinct.

“So is that the right kind of love?”

Still stifling giggles, the other form responded. “You know I can’t answer that for you, Onee-chan. Love is love.”

“Aw, why not? You answered the other thing about mom and dad.” The slightly taller form that was Yui swayed back and forth, dragging her little sister with her.

The already tense form crouched at the doorway seized up at what it heard, a dreading suspicion of what was being discussed settling into her. “I was able to answer that because you told me what was going on with mother and father, Onee-chan,” Ui explained with a saint’s patience. “But I can’t tell you how you feel about Azusa-chan. Nobody but you can do that. I’m sorry.”

Azusa’s heart sank as her theory was confirmed. _I knew it. They are talking about me. But it’s about how Yui-senpai feels, and not how poorly I acted in front of her? _“It’s okay, Ui,” Yui responded in a rare moment of self-reflection. “It’s not that I don’t know after today, it’s that I think I do, and it scares me a little, for a bunch of reasons. I guess it’s not too different from wanting our band to stay together. Mugi-chan was right when she said all that smart stuff about affecting people.” Captivated, Azusa scooted closer, her entire body now exposed to the elements from the doorway to ensure she didn’t miss anything.

“This affects everyone, ne? I never really thought about something like that before, but everything they do affects me, so I guess it makes sense that things work the other way around. Maybe that’s why Azu-nyan said she didn’t want me to leave her alone. Breaking up the band would… hurt, I think.” Yui’s head fell to one side, defeated soundly by itself. “Mou, this is too complicated for me. I’m out of energy, Ui.”

Ui said something about what Yui had said, but Azusa was too busy stumbling backwards to eavesdrop properly anymore. _I said that? I said that and I scared her. Of course I did. I scared me with that outburst. What’s the right thing to do? Do I say something?_ Forgetting that she was near the stairs, Azusa tripped on the first step, grunting in pain as she landed on her butt on the third step.

“Ne, did you hear that?”

Azusa held her breath, not trusting the noise it created. She made herself as small as possible against the wall, unable and unwilling to explain why she had chosen to listen in on her host’s conversation rather than making her presence known. “Maybe something fell over inside. Do you think Azu-nyan’s okay? I should check.”

Blankets rustled where Azusa couldn’t see, followed by the insistent, soothing voice of the younger sister. “I’m sure she’s fine, Onee-chan, relax. She needs time to sleep, just like you do. Everyone’s had a long day. I’ll wait for Azusa-chan to wake up. You should get some rest.”

Yui’s response was quiet, too quiet for the voyeur to understand. “Well, we can stay up until then at least,” Ui promised. “But I won’t let you go any later. It’s a school night.”

Though she knew her way out depended on getting in contact with the Hirasawa sisters, Azusa found her body retreating for the top of the stairs, taking the responsibility of decision-making away from her addled mind. Only when she had finished scampering to the top of the stairs did Azusa begin to process things normally again. “Stop running,” she weakly ordered herself, the irony lost on her in her fatigue. “You’re going to have to talk to them eventually. Might as well get it over with. You can’t exactly make things worse than you already have. She mentioned love…” The word felt inappropriate coming out of Azusa’s mouth.

Revealing lights from the living room ceiling contrasted with Azusa’s darkening thoughts as she wandered towards the glass doors leading to the balcony. The echoes of memories of the games and tea the 7 of them had shared mere hours ago mocked her, the feeling of recalling them akin to watching a TV show she had just happened to catch, a temporary distraction from the truth. _What was Yui-senpai saying just now? I must have misheard her, because there’s no way she really feels that way about me. We’re Yui-senpai and kouhai. I’ve made it very clear where I stand. Nothing I said could have given her the impression that I’m like that, right? How was I supposed to know Yui-senpai was like that? What am I like? _Her questions spun her head in circles, finding no answers and making her desire fresh air to combat dizziness.

With only one option for relief readily available, Azusa stumbled over to the balcony entrance and slid the glass door open softly. Her face was immediately buffeted by a wave of cold air, scattering her messy hair behind her like paper streamers taped to a cheap fan. It became very apparent how important Azusa’s hoodie was to her as she stepped outside to the balcony, holding her bare arms against her chest protectively. The second-floor balcony wasn’t convincing her that her bad idea had any merit, merely serving as a home for two dead-looking potted plants and a large fence made up of horizontal wooden planks that prevented Azusa from looking out at the driveway of the house. Though it presented the impression that nobody made use of the area, Azusa could make out scuff marks on the wooden floors and walls in between pockets of fallen snow that could only be manmade, by a clumsy one at that. She would have smiled at the thought were her mind not elsewhere. Making her way out to the edge of the balcony, Azusa leaned against the fencing dangerously, putting an unreasonable amount of trust in the construction. The clear powder began to collect itself around her as she wrestled with her frazzled emotions. _Calm down. Think rationally. You know Yui-senpai likes you. She’s too kind to let even something like this deter her, for better or worse. I must still be overreacting. It’s not like you’re completely alone. Going about things the wrong way can’t change that. Yes, relax, Azusa. Love is a cheap word for Yui-senpai. Yui-senpai is my senpai, and I’m her kouhai. That relationship is never going to change, so stop freaking out about it._

“I still feel bad for not understanding. So what are you going to do now? In the spring, I mean?”

Ui’s voice cut into Azusa’s internal monologue. She turned her head, peering through a narrow gap in the fence. She hadn’t noticed how close the balcony was to the front porch until she heard the voice of her friend. The shape that was the two sisters was barely discernable through the inadequate gap size and poor lighting. Azusa sighed to herself. _And I’m right back to spying on them. I really am a like a cat… _“What do you mean? Graduate?”

One of the forms under the blanket sagged slightly. “After that, Onee-chan.”

“Oh. Go to college, probably. I mean, I’ve been studying pretty hard, and I don’t want that to go to waste, but I’d really rather just become a musician with everyone.” Though she couldn’t see the girls, Azusa imagined a dopey grin on Yui’s face. “Sawa-chan won’t approve of that, though. That’s why I need mom and dad’s help.”

Nosiness was suddenly bumped several places up on Azusa’s list of acceptable bad habits as she managed to explain several of Yui’s actions with one piece of information. _That’s why she was so upset about her parents not being able to come. She’s trying to convince them to let her pursue being a musician. But… _Azusa’s thoughts turned to her own parents, and how years of that life had taken their toll on the people she had revolved her early childhood around. _Making it as a musician alone, or at all, is nearly impossible. Sure, Yui-senpai has talent, but without drive, she’ll never get off the ground. _

Ui apparently thought along the same lines as her friend. “And they said you should go to college at the same time,” she confirmed. “It’s not a maturity issue, Onee-chan. You’re very mature. I think they’re right to want you to go to college though. It’s a good way to ensure that you can get a job that will pay for things until your career takes off. Besides, you haven’t even asked the others if that’s what they want to do, have you?”

“I don’t need to,” Yui argued. “I can tell they feel the same way. We wouldn’t be like this if they didn’t. Besides, this way, I can have cake and tea every day with everyone!” Yui proclaimed dreamily, forcing Azusa to shoot dead the small iota of trust she had in her senpai’s ability to take any potential career seriously. _And just when I thought she actually wanted to be a musician. Is she really that set on this? Is this how Yui-senpai was planning on keeping everyone together? She can’t make this happen on her own, and she probably knows that, so what? YuiAzu and HTT hit the road together? Is that really what I want? _Azusa was back in Yui’s room briefly, her present forgotten as the fragments of memory coalesced into a single line: _ Please don’t ever leave me alone. _

Sliding her back down the sliding, her shirt nearly catching in several places, Azusa found herself sitting cross-legged on the ground. _Yes, I’m certain that’s what I said. I don’t want them to go. I couldn’t put on a face and lie to them or myself any longer._ _And Yui-senpai specifically has always been the biggest problem. _Azusa reached out a hand towards the stars glittering enticingly above her._ They’ve always shone, with or without me. It’s what drew me to their band in the first place. If people could see HTT the way I see it, Yui-senpai really could make it as a musician. It’s like how mother and father used to play. I miss them. _

Azusa drew HTT’s logo in the snow with her other hand’s finger, giving the teacup a cat face that she immediately wiped away when she realized what she was doing._ I want to shine too, but I can’t. Azusa Nakano doesn’t shine. She’s not supposed to stand out, even when she tries. I’ll just make trouble for people by telling them what I think, how I feel. Is that how I feel? But that’s not what I want. That’s not why I’ve stuck with this lazy band this long. I don’t want to move. Why then?_

The answer to that question arrived easily enough. Her senpais were unlike any band Azusa had ever heard. They had a chemistry that Azusa couldn’t find among other music groups, and God knew she had tried. If another band could provoke the same wonder within her that HTT did and was even a miniscule percent more invested in practicing, Azusa wouldn’t have any conflicts running through her mind. Experience, sadly, had taught the student that this was impossible, that the Light Music Club’s success was predicated on their laziness. The same reason they sounded so spectacular together was the reason they rarely practiced together, a conflict Azusa still struggled to resolve in her mind on a daily basis. Individually, they were all decent musicians, even Yui when she wanted to be, but Tsumugi was the only one among them with even a ghost of a chance at making it completely on her own. Together, however, Azusa couldn’t help but be swept away by their songs, enraptured by the same sounds she made herself as if they were new again. Her outstretched hand clenched into a fist, pulling itself back to her heart. _I can’t let them go, and I can’t get close enough to take their hands. Maybe we can’t stay together, but I don’t know if I can just be in another band after HTT. It wouldn’t be the Light Music Club without them. Mou, I just had to look up to them. _Tempting as it was to cry, Azusa found herself drained of tears, her previous outburst having stolen more than her pride. Instead, she closed her eyes, reminding herself that she still had tasks to accomplish before she could be alone again._ Well, if that’s how it is, all I can do is make sure I’m not holding them back, and maybe then I’ll be able to shine for a while too. That’s my dream, Yui-senpai, even if it’s going to be crushed soon. _

Rising from leaning against the fencing, Azusa began to return inside to confront the sisters, but the return of Yui’s voice caused her to freeze. “Well, my dream is for everyone to keep playing together forever. Oh, and to eat cake every day. Oh, and for that cool shirt I saw at the mall the other day! And you?”

Terrified, the kouhai took a shaky step back from the wooden wall, desperately reassuring herself that Yui hadn’t just started reading her mind. _That’s impossible. She can’t read minds. Oh God, maybe she can. That would explain so much. I can’t be here anymore. I need to skip town, get out of here before- _“I just want to support you, Onee-chan. That’s what makes me happy.”

Somehow having forgotten that Ui was there, Azusa placed a hand on her chest as her breathing steadied itself once more, fighting to quell her rising paranoia. “Eh? I mean, that’s great, but you don’t have anything else you want, Ui?”

Azusa could tell that Ui had just as few answers for that question as her sister did for everything on an everyday basis. Jun had once posited to her that the only difference between Yui and Ui was that the latter thought before she spoke, that Ui was secretly just as airheaded as her sister. Azusa had proceeded to smack Jun while Ui gushed at what she interpreted as praise. “Eh? Um… I don’t know. What do you think?”

A yawn held the conversation hostage for a moment. “I think you’re really talented, Ui. You’re better than I am at guitar. Azu-nyan’s lucky to have you as her friend.”

“Don’t remind me,” Azusa muttered under her visible breath, edging closer to the screen door.

“Well, if you insist, I’ll find some other goal to pursue,” Ui promised, though Azusa could tell by the faint tone of her voice that Ui had no intention of following up on that claim, even with how poor the balcony acoustics were.

Yui, despite being right next to the source, failed to pick up on the distinction. “Great! Try asking your classmates! That helped me learn a lot about what career I wanted to pursue.”

It was too tempting to call Yui out on that advice. _Saying you want to be a musician isn’t pursuing a career, you moron. At least Mio-senpai and Mugi-senpai have universities they want to attend. _Azusa wanted to throttle her senpai sometimes, usually whenever she tried to sound like she knew what she was talking about. It wasn’t as if Ui and her were on great terms with their class at the moment anyways. “Well… I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” Ui dodged the question poorly.

In the time it took Ui to speak, Azusa had made her way back to the edge of the balcony, giving up on subtlety while spying. Yui probably beamed ignorantly at her sister. “That’s good. I was speaking to some of your classmates the other day. They seemed nice.”

Though she couldn’t see her friend clearly, Azusa knew both her and Ui’s blood had gone colder than the weather. She began to panic once more as the worst possible scenarios ran through her mind. Ui was evidently in a similar situation. “O-oh, really? Did they have anything interesting to say?” she asked shakily, acting evidently not one of her many talents.

Yui’s head bobbed back and forth. “Nope. Well, they did ask how many times I’d slept with Azu-nyan, so I told them about all the times we slept together.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Azusa yelled at the top of her lungs from the balcony, gasping and covering her mouth too late to take back the exclamation.

The outburst inspired a dog in a nearby yard to start barking. Ui, still in shock over the last five seconds, was left alone in her blanket as Yui stood up to stare in the general direction of the scream. “Azu-nyan? Is that you?” she asked, gazing at the night sky in wonder.

Azusa nodded, unable to form words, then realized that she probably couldn’t be seen through the balcony fencing. “Yes?” she answered, uncertain if that was the right move.

“Azu-nyan’s awake!” Yui cheered, dashing for the front door. “And she’s in the sky! Ui, come on, Azu-nyan’s awake! Azu-nyan energy here I come!”

The time it took Yui to sprint up the stairs, realize that Azusa wasn’t in the sky, and thrust open the door to the second-floor balcony was more than enough for Azusa to recollect her thoughts and dodge Yui’s greeting hug. What she didn’t prepare for was Yui reading her movements. As she slid to the left to evade her senpai, Yui swung around to catch her at the last possible second, trapping the kouhai in an embrace that very nearly sent them both to the snow-laden ground. Azusa frowned as Yui began to pet her head, her attempts to process how Yui managed to catch her distracting her from her original mission of chewing the older girl out. _Am I getting complacent, or perhaps too easy to read? _It became increasingly difficult to focus as Yui rubbed her head fondly.

“Azu-nyan! You’re okay! We were so worried about you! I need to tell the others!” With her free hand, Yui whipped out her phone, fingers moving at dizzying speeds.

“Onee-chan, don’t,” Ui cautioned, appearing at the sliding doorway. “You’ll just wake them up. Come inside, you two, before you catch something.”

The senpai smiled fondly at her kouhai, patting her head one more time for good measure before releasing her. “Okaaaay,” Yui acquiesced without argument, retreating inside with a welcoming wave to her guest. “Come on, Azu-nyan, Ui has tea ready for you!”

Azusa stared at her senpai’s back. Her hug had been warm, far warmer than she had expected. It could have been the bitter cold catching up to her, but Azusa felt an urge to be next to her senpai, to receive warmth from her once more. She discarded the inappropriate notion. _It’s okay to like hugs. Don’t make things weird. Focus on what that moron said. _In short order, Azusa followed Yui into the house, taking a seat in the kotatsu as Yui turned it back on. The second her senpai made the mistake of sitting next to Azusa, the kouhai made a point to get in her face. “What the hell do you mean you’ve slept with me Yui-senpai? Do you have any idea how messed up that is, you pervert?! Where’s my hoodie?” With every question, Azusa leaned forward and jabbed a finger into her senpai’s chest, causing Yui to shrink back sheepishly.

The aggression of the sudden interrogation caused Yui equal amounts of panic and baffled anxiety, every avenue of escape swiftly covered by the enraged cat in front of her. She cast a pleading look to Ui, who was walking into the room with three cups of tea, for assistance, but Ui only smiled pleasantly. “I’d like to know what you meant too, Onee-chan.” Kneeling across from the pair, Ui distributed tea as if the conversation she had entered was perfectly normal.

Without a rope to cling on to, Yui was forced to attempt to climb out of the hole she had dug herself. Complicating things was the fact that Yui didn’t seem to understand her own situation. “We slept together at New Years, and that one night at the cultural festival, before our last concert, remember Azu-nyan? I thought it was a weird question. I mean, as a band, we’ve all slept together a bunch of times. They must have thought it meant something else. I make that mistake a lot, ne, Ui?”

Unprepared to speak, Ui flinched, taking a sip of tea to buy herself time. Azusa didn’t blame her, no words coming to her to navigate the landmine that was this conversation. She didn’t envy Ui being saddled with the responsibilities that kept more than a few parents up at night. “Yes! I mean, that’s probably it. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding, so you should probably tell anyone who asks that you haven’t been sleeping with other people, so they don’t get confused.”

Yui yawned as an answer. “Okay, if you think that’d be easier. I’d like you or Azu-nyan to explain it when you have the time though. By the way, your hoodie is in the wash, Azu-nyan, since you had juice on it. It’ll be clean tomorrow.” She stifled another yawn, her eyelids already beginning to droop as the kotatsu heat drew her into a state of complacency with her new situation.

Ui and Azusa exchanged a bashful glance, Azusa’s rage melting away as things became clear to her. The friends had the same thought simultaneously as they returned their attention to the innocent mind in front of them. _Nope._ “Ummm, how’d my hoodie get juice on it?” Azusa asked as she pulled back, suddenly desperate to be talking about anything else. _I guess we know why those rumors wouldn’t go away. Well, if Yui-senpai doesn’t get it, I guess there’s no harm in letting the rumor go for now. That’ll make Jun-chan happy at least._

Both sisters cast Azusa a look she couldn’t interpret as she took a sip of her bitter tea. “You don’t remember?” Yui asked, her own question forgotten. “Azu-nyan, what can you remember from yesterday? You hit your head pretty hard on my nightstand.”

The mere mention of yesterday caused Azusa’s head to throb. Without her fury towards her senpai to drive her, an awkward feeling of uncertainty was paralyzing her thoughts and actions. She wasn’t sure how honest she wanted to be about the party. There were certainly parts she’d rather forget, and she had a hunch that the hazy parts weren’t much better. Discretion won the battle for progress. “Enough to know I should apologize to you for my behavior,” Azusa confessed, bowing a little from her seat. “I shouldn’t even be here right now, I need to get home before my parents- “

“Mugi-senpai took care of that,” Ui interrupted helpfully, withdrawing Azusa’s phone from a jacket pocket. “Here’s your phone, by the way. We didn’t want it to wake you. After you passed out, she took the liberty of calling your house and telling them you were spending the night. They were pretty cool about it.”

Azusa mulled over hearing her parents get called cool as she stared at the lack of livid missed calls on the screen. Her parents weren’t cool about anything that inconvenienced them, which meant there was some benefit to her not being in the house tonight. Shaking off the conspiracies forming in her mind, Azusa decided to let it go, her mind too occupied to deal with every little thing that demanded her attention. “Alright, if they said it’s alright, then it is. I don’t want to impose on you two, though. I shouldn’t- “

Yui cut Azusa off by placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Stop apologizing, Azu-nyan. You need to rest. We can talk about anything you want in the morning.” She smiled a warm smile at her kouhai that quickly turned into another yawn. “Ui, I’m sleepy.”

When she was certain Yui had fully turned her attention to her sister, Azusa allowed herself to smile a little at her friend’s behavior. _She’s still Yui-senpai. I should have known she’d be able to shake something like this off easily. It helps that she’s easy to talk to, even in a situation like this. _“I know. We all need to sleep, Onee-chan. That means you too, Azusa-chan. I’ll bring you a sleeping bag, and you can use the kotatsu if you want.” Before Azusa could even accept the offer, Ui was already on the move again.

“You can use my bed!” Yui volunteered, fully awakened once more by the prospect of being useful.

“No,” Azusa denied bluntly, the mere thought of further inconveniencing her hosts giving her voice more vigor than it had enjoyed since she woke up. “You need to sleep too. I’ll be just fine down here, where I can sleep in peace.” The kouhai said nothing about how awkward the concept of intentionally sleeping in her senpai’s bed was to her.

Yui pouted a little, but was too exhausted to argue for long. All the worry Azusa had been clinging to was discarded as sleep demanded her attention. Whatever rest she had gotten unwillingly before hadn’t been nearly enough. Minutes later, she had received a sleeping bag and blankets from Ui and said goodnight to the Hirasawa sisters, making Ui promise to wake her up early enough that she could get home and retrieve her school uniform. Wrapped in a sleeping bag, blanket, and under a kotatsu, Azusa stared listlessly at the ceiling. Her master plan of lying motionless until sleep reclaimed her was rapidly becoming a pipe dream. She would have given anything to be asleep ten minutes ago, and now she couldn’t even keep her eyes closed, her entire body alert and unapologetically awake. Yui was a rock that had dropped itself rudely into the river of her conscious, interrupting her normal thoughts and ruining even her ability to sleep. The whole point of confronting her senpai had been to apologize, but the Hirasawas had glazed over it like it was nothing, ignoring even the fact that Azusa had been listening to them. Returning to her senpai’s nebulous at best explanations, Azusa’s thoughts remained steadfast in trying to get in the head of the person upstairs.

_I tend to be rather cold towards Yui-senpai. But that’s her own fault for being too clingy. It’s so… inappropriate for a senpai to act like that. She’s a bad senpai, but I’ve been a bad kouhai, so I guess we deserve each other. We’re a bad band that sounds good for no reason. No, that’s not right. _Azusa’s eyelids began to grow heavy, but she willed herself to remain conscious, now unwilling to rest without answers. _We’re something different. That has to be true. And Yui-senpai has always tried harder than anyone else to make me feel included, in her own way. She’s always been trying harder than anyone else to make me happy, and I treat her like a stranger on a good day. The others do their best too, but Yui-senpai always does her best harder than everyone else when she wants to. Usually too far. _

Recalling a particular incident where Yui had attempted to “include” the band’s fifth member early on by having Sawako make the kouhai a costume that would have gotten her arrested for indecent exposure, Azusa allowed herself a small chuckle. _Maybe that’s what’s been bothering me all day. Their attention feels great, but it feels wrong at the same time. Why does it feel wrong? I don’t mind Yui-senpai’s hugs in a reasonable dosage, not that I’ve ever experienced such a thing. Games and sweets are regrettably critical to our band’s success. Yet, it feels wrong to indulge myself in things like that. I wasn’t raised like this, and I don’t deserve it. If I want something, I have to work hard for it, because nothing is given to you in life. _With that thought, a bolt of clarity opened Azusa’s mind to a potential plan. _That’s it. I simply have to work harder. To keep up with everyone, I just need to push myself until I’m worthy of standing with them. I’ll win by showing Yui-senpai I’m not a charity case, and then it won’t even matter if they know I’m scared. I’m her kouhai, no matter how different we are, no more, no less. That matter is closed and definite, for good. I won’t be able to enjoy the last few months until I have a plan to solve our problem, so I just need to solve it. _Azusa’s eyes mercifully shut, as if they sensed her impending conclusion.

_There’s no way Yui-senpai feels romantically about anyone with how childish she is. I should only be focused on performing with them while I still can. First, I’ll make Yui-senpai agree to forget about my outburst, so the others won’t have to worry. They won’t just abandon me like I feared, but that just means I must work twice as hard so we can shine together. Then I just need to find a way to deal with March. _Every promise to work harder and solve larger issues drew more and more weariness into Azusa’s body._ If things are going to change, I’m going to make sure that we get through it together. For Yui-senpai’s dreams and my own. _Filling her head with fanciful machinations, each more grandiose in scale and infeasibility than the last, Azusa slipped into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**November 14th, Sunrise at the Hirasawa Household**

The second awakening came with far less resistance than the first. Azusa’s eyelids fluttered open, clarity gracing her vision of the sunrise through the balcony window, just bright enough to admire its beauty without harshly punishing her sight. Azusa smiled softly, the satisfaction associated with waking up well rested and ready to confront the day empowering her. She couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming about, but she knew it was peaceful by the lack of tension she had grown painfully accustomed to waking up with in her muscles. Something about the new day felt different, like she could finally begin to effect change on the issues that had been plaguing her with the clarity she had granted herself amidst the maelstrom of yesterday. Having knowledge of the root of her problem, or rather admitting to it, even to the worst possible person, released a weight she hadn’t realized she had been burdening herself with. She attempted to raise a hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes, only to realize it was occupied.

Glancing to her left, Azusa was met with the surreal sight of Yui, tightly gripping one of her hands while surrounded by much of the food Azusa recalled seeing in her secret stash. The paper crown Azusa had discarded adorned her head, nearly covering her eyes. Several of the points were folded over, making it look more like a poorly made peddler’s cap than a poorly made symbol of authority. Rays of sunlight refracted off of the drink bottles and accented the contours of Yui’s delicate features, giving her an ethereal appearance. “Senpai?” Azusa asked, briefly uncertain if she had actually woken up.

As a scientific test, Azusa squeezed the hand she had been holding. Two sets of calloused fingers made contact, the sensation too unique to Azusa’s senses to be fabricated. As soon as she was certain of this, she yanked her hand away from her senpai’s grip to prove she disliked it. Yui was astonishingly strong for a sleeping person, but Azusa’s smaller hands and consciousness gave her the upper hand in the exchange. By the time she had sat up and dislodged herself from her sleeping bag, the commotion she had created induced the older guitarist to stir from her slumber. Standing up to obtain the high ground over the invader on her turf, Azusa crossed her arms authoritatively. “Yui-senpai, what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Azusa growled accusingly, waiting impatiently for her groggy senpai to rejoin the waking world.

Yui blinked several times, brown eyes fastening themselves on the most familiar target in the room. “What am I doing in my house? What are you doing in my house?” Yui accused back, pointing an unstable finger several meters to the left of her kouhai with a delirious grin.

“This isn’t a joke, Yui-senpai,” Azusa reprimanded, frowning condescendingly. “You invited me here, apparently to try and mess with me while I was sleeping. That’s not okay, senpai.”

Obtaining just a bit more cognizance, Yui found it in herself to bow when she sat up, nearly falling over again in the process. “I wasn’t messing with Azu-nyan, Azu-nyan. You were trembling in your sleep, so I wanted to help, but then I fell asleep. Sorry about that. Are you mad? Don’t be mad please. Oh, I know, want some chips?” The dopey smile on Yui’s face as she offered her kouhai a slightly crushed bag of potato chips nearly convinced Azusa to back down. Nearly.

Azusa snatched the bag of chips before she could pause to think about how accepting the offer could ruin her next point. She hadn’t noticed how peckish sleep had made her until she was surrounded by junk food. “And that makes it okay to just cuddle up to me while I’m asleep somehow?” she asked rhetorically between bites. “It’s not about helping me out, it’s about trust. How am I supposed to trust you when you pull stunts like this? You can’t just do what you want because you think it’ll help someone. It’s unethical.” The last part might have been a white lie, but Azusa knew Yui of all people would never be able to call her on it.

As she half-expected, Yui shushed Azusa from her seat among her edible goods to change the subject. “Azu-nyan, you’ll wake Ui. Besides, that wasn’t cuddling. Wait, did you want cuddling? I thought about that, but I wasn’t planning on staying long, since I had to get my new secret stash hidden before Ui wakes up-“ The room fell silent as Yui glanced around rapidly, a default smile on her face as she began to realize the implications of her impromptu nap. This was swiftly followed by a gasp. “I fell asleep! Azu-nyan, quick, help me hide this stuff before Ui comes downstairs! I can’t afford to lose my allowance this week!” Yui began to scurry around the room, destroying nearly as many bags and bottles as she picked up in an attempt to cover her dirty tracks.

Giving up on lecturing her senpai for her immoral behavior was too easy for Azusa to do. _Damn it. I’ll have to find the time to properly reprimand her later. I can’t get soft on her just because she knows the truth. It’ll just make things worse for both of us. To that end, I need to make sure we’re on the same page about yesterday. _Finding the inspiration to attempt discipline once more, Azusa scarfed down several chips at once to give herself energy before getting between her senpai and the stairs. “Don’t try to distract me, senpai. Your inappropriate behavior aside, we need to talk about yesterday. There are some points I’d like to make clear-”

“No time!” Yui blurted out to interrupt Azusa’s carefully prepared segue. “You ate the chips, so you’re an accomplice! Come on, accomplice, if I get caught, you’re going down with me! Please, if you love me, help me!”

Azusa blushed, a furious retort already forming in her mouth as she crushed the chip bag in her grip. Before she could begin to tear Yui apart for somehow blackmailing her into a life of crime, the clearing of a throat interrupted her. “What do you two think you’re doing?” Came a startlingly calm voice from behind Azusa. “I told you no more hidden snacks, Onee-chan.”

Yui stopped dead in her tracks, but the expression on her face wasn’t one of guilt or even fear, rather awe. Turning around, Azusa found her expression matching her senpai’s. Ui stood menacingly halfway down the stairs, tapping her foot impatiently with a broom in her hand. What drew both girls’ attention, however, was the full maid outfit Ui had donned, white stockings, frilly headband and all. Bags under her eyes indicated that sleep hadn’t come nearly as easily to her as it did to her sister. Azusa wasn’t sure where to begin asking questions, giving Yui the opportunity to whip out her phone and take a picture of her sister. “Yay! You look cute, Ui!” she charged towards the faux maid, blowing past Azusa while scattering sweets in all directions in her wake.

With more experience than anyone in the room, Ui knew exactly how to react. Pointing the broom in her hand at Yui physically compelled the older sister to halt at the base of the stairs. “No hugging yet, Onee-chan. I need to know why you two think it was okay to try and replenish Onee-chan’s snack supply when I explicitly told you I was getting rid of it. I really don’t want to dock your allowance for this, Onee-chan. I work hard to keep this place clean and bug-free, you know.” The stern expression on her face wavered, having to play the foil for her sister making her uncomfortable no matter how many times she had to do it.

“I can tell,” Azusa couldn’t resist commenting on Ui’s attire. “This place would be a wreck without you.”

Looking down at herself, Ui blushed. “This was a… coincidence. I couldn’t sleep last night, at all. I kept thinking about things, so I decided to clean to wear myself out. Then I remembered the gift you let me have, so I thought I’d try it on to clean. But, um, I got distracted, and then I fell asleep at some point. Onee-chan’s panicking woke me up.” Ui appeared to take a bit of pride in that claim as she continued. “But none of that matters! Why were you helping Onee-chan? I count on you to keep Onee-chan on task at school, Azusa-chan!”

Ui’s story struck an uncannily familiar chord with Azusa as she glanced at her senpai. _Perhaps Jun-chan was onto something. _Remembering that she was currently being falsely accused, Azusa raised a hand to defend herself, only for the chip bag she had crushed to choose that moment to escape her grasp.

All three girls watched the empty foil bag plummet to the ground, the sound it made when it hit the ground akin to a gavel banging to declare Azusa guilty. Yui butted in before Azusa could bother trying to explain the absurd circumstances that led her here. “It’s not Azu-nyan’s fault!” she defended valiantly as she took another picture of Ui. “I was getting my snacks back, and then I decided to help Azu-nyan sleep, but I passed out!”

“Y-you were sleeping with Azusa-chan?” Ui stammered, breaking her composure enough for the broom to droop to the steps. “But that’s-”

“NO!” Azusa shouted, very sick of that particular phrase as Yui took the opportunity to rush her sister. “You know better than that, Ui-chan. Yui-senpai just passed out trying to get back upstairs because she’s lazy.” Ui and Yui collided, the broom sliding down the steps as Yui fawned over her furiously blushing sister.

Yui, in the middle of hugging her sister to death, ignored the jab embedded in Azusa’s response. “See? Ui said sleeping the way I meant it, so it means what I said it means, not what you said!” She jumped up and down, spilling whatever food wasn’t trapped between the sisters’ embrace in the process. “Yui wins!”

Ui attempted to deduce the truth of the matter, but her sister’s affection was evidently as distracting for her as it was for Azusa. The accused felt exasperated by the mistrust in Ui’s eyes, but she couldn’t completely blame Ui for not believing the character witness that was treating her like a new stuffed animal. The back of her head began to flare up with pain once more as the interaction devolved into insanity. Had the doorbell not chosen that moment to interrupt things, Azusa was pretty sure she’d have developed a headache and Ui would have been squeezed to death.

Jumping on a way off of the sinking ship that was this conversation, Azusa sprinted for the stairs, yelling that she’d get it before anyone else could. She presumed whoever was at the door wasn’t there to see her, but having to explain that misunderstanding was infinitely easier than trying to process what was going on upstairs. Smoothing her hair out with one hand, Azusa opened the door with the other, a welcoming smile on her face quickly vanishing in the face of her mother’s presence. “Mom?” she wondered aloud, dumbfounded.

Mrs. Nakano had a fake smile on her face that matched the pearls around her neck. She had elected to wear a long grey dress Azusa recalled her reserving for when she was attempting to show off to her father’s coworkers, her short black hair as straight as an arrow. In her hands was a plastic bag that manicured nails tolerated delicately, as if they were handling toxic waste. “Ah, Azusa, how are you? I was worried my little guitarist would still be asleep! You do seem to enjoy indulging in such frivolous pastimes after all.” No amount of makeup could prevent the condescending tone in Mrs. Nakano’s voice from stinging Azusa’s pride.

“Why are you here?” Azusa cut in, looking to get rid of the person who used to be her mother as soon as possible. “Don’t you have somewhere important to be, some friends to hang out with?”

The woman’s eyes lit up, catching a stray loop in Azusa’s words that the guitarist could be snared on. “Nothing’s as important as you, darling!” Azusa’s mother crooned. “Besides, how were you planning on going to school today without your uniform?” the plastic bag was tossed carelessly into Azusa’s open arms, nearly spilling its contents in the process.

Peeking inside, Azusa confirmed that her school uniform was indeed shoved haphazardly in the bag, along with a box containing what Azusa identified as one of the snacks from the pantry. Despite knowing the contents, Azusa found herself reluctant to accept the gift, keeping it an arm’s length away from herself. _Weird. What strategic advantage does she get out of doing this? She doesn’t even bother to ask about my life unless one of my grades slips, and suddenly we’re back to delivering things I need to me on a whim? No way. I want to believe you, but I can’t, mother. I won’t be fooled again._

Azusa raised an eyebrow at the parent. “I don’t need your help, mother, and I don’t believe you’d just go out of your way like this for no reason. Why’d you actually come here?”

The suspicious look Azusa was giving her mother wasn’t lost on the woman. “Oh, come on, Azusa. I know I’ve been busy, but I’m still your mother. Just because some things had to change to keep our family strong doesn’t mean everything did.” When Azusa’s expression didn’t change, her mother sighed. “Look, I know things aren’t what they used to be, but it’s for the good of the Nakano clan. Come on, be a team player and let me care about you once in a while, alright?”

Azusa was about to retort on how she was supposed to care all the time, among other things, when a bag of chips suddenly flopped to the ground at her feet. “Hello there! I’m Yui Hirasawa! Are you Azu-nya- ahem, Azusa-chan’s mother? Want a snack? Azusa-chan really likes these chips!” Yui appeared behind Azusa, standing shamelessly with an armful of snacks to butt into the conversation with.

Taking in the profile of her senpai, the paper crown and cheerful smile poking out over what was left of her secret stash, Azusa felt every nerve in her body fire a danger signal at the same time. _How’d I forgot Yui-senpai was here?! Doesn’t matter. I can’t let mother know that she’s my senpai or she’ll make me quit the Light Music Club. It was hard enough defending playing the guitar to them. _For all the lack of caring Azusa claimed to suffer from, her parents certainly knew how to interfere in the places Azusa least wanted them to.

Confirming her fears was the judging stare Yui was receiving from her mother. Yui held out a bag of chips invitingly, unaware that everything she was doing was being heavily scrutinized. Azusa opened her mouth to speak, but a raised hand from her mother quieted her. “Hirasawa… I see. You’re in that band with my daughter, if memory serves.” The façade of Mrs. Nakano’s good mood was dropped as she looked down on Azusa’s senpai. “Let me guess, you’re the drummer. You drummers have that sort of… air about you. Can you at least keep time?” Azusa could tell her mother hadn’t evaluated her senpai as someone worth sucking up to.

Completely unperturbed, Yui shook her head. “No ma’am, I’m our lead guitarist and vocalist! You should come to our performances sometime, they’re really fun! Ne, Azu-nyan, when are we gonna perform again?” Yui attempted to shake Azusa’s shoulder to ask her question, only to drop half of her stash all over the doorstep. “Oops. My bad.”

As she bent over to retrieve her prizes, Mrs. Nakano gave Azusa an incredulous look. For once, Azusa could only shrug sheepishly, actually half-agreeing with the logic behind her mother’s unasked questions. _If I was an outsider looking in, I wouldn’t think Yui-senpai was supposed to be the lead of anything. She’ll probably be all over me tonight for disrespecting our name or something. _“Is everything alright down there?” came Ui’s voice, followed by the girl itself as she descended the stairs until she met Mrs. Nakano’s wide eyes. “Oh, pardon me, Mrs. Nakano, we weren’t expecting you until a bit later. I’m-”

“A maid?” Mrs. Nakano wondered aloud, her eyes wide with befuddlement.

Ui tried to shake her head, but Yui jumped on the opportunity. “Yeah! Isn’t she cute! Ui makes a fantastic maid! She’s the best cleaner I’ve ever known! Oh, and you should try her food, it’s amazing!”

Forgetting her conversation, Ui put her fingers together cutely. “You don’t have to complement me like that. I enjoy keeping things tidy for you.”

Having resigned herself to getting screamed at the second Yui and Ui were out of earshot for the company she kept, Azusa couldn’t understand the contemplative expression on her mother’s face. “Hirasawa…” Mrs. Nakano mumbled to herself, now lost in thought.

Deciding to clear up the misunderstanding before her mother found a reason to ban her from going to school forever, Azusa opened her mouth to speak, but was hushed again. Pouting a little, she crossed her arms and waited for her mother to blow up, hoping her friends would be able to take it. Instead, the woman’s actress smile returned. “Ah, yes, of course, my sincerest apologies for the mistake, Ms. Hirasawa. It’s an honor to have my little Azusa in the company of such esteemed names like Hirasawa and Kotobuki, simply wonderful. Oh, I know! Azusa, you should invite your friends over for dinner sometime! I’m sure it would be a wonderful opportunity for everyone to bond.”

Taking the chance to direct the conversation, Azusa did everything in her power to end it. “That’s a great idea, let’s talk about it any other time, alright? We need to get ready for school now, so we need to go. Now.” She rested a hand on the door, nudging Yui to get her to move her snacks out of the way.

To Azusa’s amazement, her mother agreed immediately, bowing deeply to Yui. “Right, right, of course. Thank you so much for taking care of my daughter, Ms. Hirasawa. Azusa, I’ll be seeing you tonight for a talk about this band of yours. Have a nice day at school!” Turning on her high heels, Mrs. Nakano strutted back to her car with the experience of someone who had spent years on a stage.

Shutting the door had the side effect of shutting down all the logical processes in Azusa’s mind. Ui wasn’t faring much better. “Did she think I was this place’s maid?” she wondered aloud, looking at herself.

The need to comment how close that was to the truth was somehow shoved away by Azusa in time for Yui to tap her on the shoulder. “Ne, Azu-nyan, I’m Ms. Hirasawa now! Doesn’t that sound important? Ne, Azu-nyan, are you listening? You have to call me Ms. Hirasawa from now on, okay?”

Azusa stared blankly at her overenthusiastic senpai and her equally lost friend. “I give up,” she announced to the universe, pretending the comment didn’t get her two befuddled stares. “It’s too early to deal with maids and snack hoarders. I’m going to get ready for school.” All three girls, Yui included, exchanged a rare moment of synchronicity as Azusa’s comment hit the same place for all of them.

“Perhaps it’s for the best we just move on with the day,” Ui agreed with a yawn. “I’ll have breakfast ready in a moment.” Yui, still just a bit behind the two younger girls, only nodded in blind agreement, secretly hoping that this meant her stash would survive another day.

Though little of her experience since awakening made sense to the kouhai, Azusa found herself strangely complacent with the organized chaos that was morning at the Hirasawa household. Pushing every other concern aside for just a moment, it felt nice to wake up in a house that felt alive.

* * *

**November 14th, Evening**

The day slipped away outside of Azusa’s awareness. No class held her attention long enough to be memorable the way the morning preceding them had been. Lunch had been just as droll, with Jun absent for some supposed illness and Ui barely able to keep her eyes open long enough to hold a conversation. Without her comrades, anxiety over what would come of practice after school occupied Azusa’s mind since she had left for school without being able to ensure her senpai was properly reigned in. Reality turned out to be almost infuriatingly uneventful. Her little band had enjoyed their tea, made pleasant conversation, and even gotten in some practice with nary a raised eyebrow in her direction. This lack of happening only made the weight of the albatross around her neck more noticeable. She zipped up her guitar with an uneasy finality, wrestling with her next move.

Once they had confirmed that she was alright and healthy, none of her senpais, even Yui, had said or done anything to indicate they were at all affected by the outburst that led to her state of duress, if they knew. If anything, they were closer to each other than ever. Ritsu and Mio didn’t so much as raise their voices at each other, Yui had exchanged the introspection of yesterday for her familiar bubbly self, and Tsumugi never lost her polite smile. Reminding herself of this drove the blade of the truth deeper into her breast. _I didn’t enjoy any of that. I just want to go home. _Struggle as she did to deny this fact, Azusa found she had lost the ability to lie to herself. _The question, then, is why. Perhaps they all know and are taking pity on me by trying to pretend nothing is wrong. Though Yui-senpai isn’t capable of that, so it’s more likely she just hasn’t told them anything about why I passed out. I know they care, so maybe they’re just waiting for me to say something? Even still, this can’t just be me. Something’s off about my senpais. Particularly after yesterday, I wouldn’t just suddenly dislike the band. No, there’s no way that’s it. This must just be a weird day, a fluke. _

Azusa looked on as Yui and Ritsu got into some inane competition over who could carry the most bags at one time, with Tsumugi refereeing. A protesting Mio’s bags were added to Yui’s load while Azusa allowed Ritsu to take possession of her school bag, though she kept her guitar to herself. The duel ended nearly as soon as it began when Yui remembered that she had the staying power of ice cream on a sunny day. Acting on autopilot, Azusa worked with Mio to chide the two troublemakers for their actions as they left the clubroom. _They’re pretending nothing happened. Isn’t that for the best though? Shouldn’t I just pretend too? I’d probably go back to being happy that way. Maybe Yui-senpai just won’t tell them. Even if that were true, I need to talk to her. I have to rid myself of my mistakes in order to move forward._

Following her senpais out of the school, Azusa participated in a conversation about cake that meant nothing to anyone whose name didn’t end in i. A familiar feeling of emptiness ironically filled her as the band made their way home. _Just like when I nearly missed that meeting over a week ago. I can’t be okay with pretending or watching anymore. _The conversation treaded water Azusa didn’t bother to dip her toe in as she mentally prepared herself for the last leg of her trip home with Yui.

Until Ritsu mentioned her name several blocks later, Azusa hadn’t bothered to turn in to what was being said. “What about you, Nakano?” the drummer asked, turning back to face her kouhai where she trailed behind the main group next to Yui.

Snapping to attention, Azusa drew a blank on where her senpai was coming from. Three seniors were giving her expectant looks that overwhelmed the unprepared guitarist. The fourth was the one who saved her from drowning. “Why are you asking her?” Mio questioned, shooting Ritsu a look. “She’s not a senior.”

Azusa opened her mouth to ask what was being discussed, but Ritsu was quicker on the draw. “Because I can, and I want to change the subject,” Ritsu snarked. “I haven’t had enough time to think about it yet, alright? Drop it, Mio.”

Turning to Yui for guidance was a mistake, as the senior appeared to be just as lost as Azusa was. Mio frowned, mulling over the command. “I suppose, but I- “

“What about our next performance?” Tsumugi butted in figuratively and literally, speeding up to walk between the childhood friends. “We’re going to perform somewhere for Christmas again, aren’t we?”

Ritsu’s enthusiastic nod was soured by Mio’s frown. “What, like a sendoff performance or something? You know exams are coming up soon, right? I don’t think we have the luxury of time to prepare something like that.”

“It’s not a sendoff!” Tsumugi defended, overlooking Mio’s actual argument. “If the opportunity presents itself, then we should take advantage of it! That’s all I meant.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Azusa found it within herself to speak. “Opportunity?” she parroted. “Like the live house last year?”

Tsumugi nodded, a determined expression on her face. “Yes, exactly! We have to keep playing!”

“I’ll try to keep an eye out for us then, Mugi,” Ritsu offered noncommittally, Tsumugi’s enthusiasm not quite rubbing off on her.

Azusa exchanged glances with the two childhood friends. None of them felt like bringing up the idea of the band breaking up or the importance of entrance exam preparation to Tsumugi. Their reactions also confirmed for Azusa that something had happened while she and Yui had been absent. _This. This is the weirdness with how normal they’re being. It’s like they’re resisting talking about something, possibly related to entrance exams. _Directionless resentment coalesced in the tightening fists of the youngest member of the band._ They’re pretending too. We’re all just pretending that everything is okay. Except I can’t pretend anymore. Their graduation is coming, and I can’t ignore that anymore. I have to find a solution before things get worse. _Unfortunately for Azusa, this meant confronting the source of many of her concerns once more, who was currently staring at a fixed point on the horizon, deaf to the rest of the world.

Though her senpai certainly didn’t appear to be upset about anything, she had fallen nearly silent since they had left the school, some sort of wayward line of thought absorbing all of her attention. Azusa sighed to herself. She hated the feeling of not knowing what was going on with herself, of not knowing what was wrong with the people she cared about or why they were changing on her. Simply asking was out of the question when she couldn’t trust herself to respond in kind. When Yui realized that the group had fallen as quiet as she was, she came back to life. “A performance sounds fun! Let’s come up with a set list!”

“Huh? Right now?” Mio responded dubiously, though the insistent bouncing up and down of Tsumugi and Ritsu drew her in quickly.

Azusa found herself swept up in the commotion of Yui’s proposal as well. She let a genuine smile grace her as the band discussed a performance that likely wouldn’t happen. _Yui-senpai is more tolerable when the others are around. She really does hold us together. It’s a reason why I- _Azusa smacked the voice in her head that hadn’t shut up since she had smashed her head into the nightstand. _It’s a reason why I respect her, sometimes. Keep your head out of the gutter. There’s nothing to be gained from going that way._

Too soon, Tsumugi’s train station arrived, and the heiress waved goodbye to her friends before turning to run for the stopped train. “Don’t forget tomorrow!” Yui yelled at the retreating heiress’ back.

Tsumugi raised a thumbs up behind her to indicate that she had heard, already disappearing into the crowd of commuters getting on and off the train. Ritsu raised an eyebrow. “Tomorrow? What’s happening tomorrow?”

Yui’s eyes glinted with concerning amounts of mischief. “You’ll see, captain,” she vaguely responded.

Mio and Ritsu exchanged a glance and shrugged. “Don’t do anything Ritsu would do,” Mio advised the guitarist, earning her a glare.

“Don’t worry, I won’t!” Yui proclaimed, saluting, stealing the glare Mio had been receiving.

Before another argument could finish brewing, Mio and Ritsu reached the street where they parted with the band’s guitarists. Simple goodbyes were exchanged, and Azusa was alone with her least reliable senpai once more. Yui skipped along like Azusa wasn’t even there, forcing the younger girl to jog to keep up. Snow crunched under her footsteps as she put more weight behind them, remnants of the flurry that had visited the town last night. Rapidly, providing apologetic looks to passerby annoyed by her senpai’s careless romp and having to drag Yui away from every interesting sight or smell that came from the nearby stores grew old. Azusa latched a hand on Yui’s shoulder to return her to walking speed. “Ne, Yui-senpai. Did something happen with the others while we were gone yesterday? They were acting a bit strange.”

Yui nodded thoughtfully, still not looking at her kouhai in favor of a window display of a dress. “Yeah, I think so. They said something about college or entrance exams, I think.” The nonchalance baffled Azusa in the way only Yui could.

Though she was used to her senpai being an airhead, Azusa had always assumed that one of the only things Yui took seriously was her friendships, right next to food and sleeping. “You think?” she echoed, fishing for a more concrete answer. _I know this is important to her. What could possibly be more distracting than this?_

“I do!” Yui giddily confirmed, now giving her kouhai the attention she sought. “Ne, are you free to have lunch with me tomorrow? Ui’s sending me to school with a bunch of leftovers, and I can’t finish them myself.”

Distracted by her own concerns, Azusa nodded absentmindedly without noticing the blatant hole in Yui’s logic. “Eh? Yeah, sounds great. More importantly, I need to talk to you about yesterday, Yui-senpai. Have you told them what happened?” Had she not rehearsed that line throughout the entirety of English class, Azusa might not have had the guts to get it out so smoothly.

Yui shook her head, kicking up a bit of snow as her gait slowly morphed back towards skipping. “Nope. I figured that was something you should do. Unless you want me to tell them for you?”

“No,” Azusa responded firmly, relief washing over her as she slowed her senpai back down to a walk once more. “I don’t want them to know at all. It’s like you said a while ago, I don’t want to burden everyone with my problems. It’s disrespectful for a kouhai to behave like that.”

Yui frowned, the reason a tossup between what Azusa was saying and her preventing the senior from skipping. “I think I was wrong about that though. I don’t know. Talking it out with you has helped me a lot. You don’t feel better after getting all the upset feelings out?”

The childish method of delivery didn’t dull the blow that Azusa had been dealt. Hardening her heart and insisting that she was doing the right thing to herself, Azusa responded as the grip on her bags tightened. “It doesn’t feel good to burden you all with my problems, no. It’s just left me confused, like everything that made sense doesn’t anymore. Why do you all keep hanging around the clubroom instead of quitting if I’m not even strong enough to put on a happy face for you and enjoy our time together? You said you’re selfish, but I’m the one holding you all back. Without me, the band wouldn’t have nearly as many issues staying together next year. I know you’re not all planning on doing the same things after high school, but I’m sure you’d all be able to work something out were it not for me.” Azusa’s voice grew quiet as she realized what she was admitting.

_Why does senpai always manage to draw what I’m thinking out of me? She’s too easy to be honest around. It’s too dangerous for me to be around her when I’m upset. _Azusa’s mulling over the nuances of Yui’s strangely disarming personality was interrupted by said guitarist’s comforting smile and the feeling of warmth as her senpai took her hand. “You’re not holding anyone back by being honest, Azu-nyan. I don’t want any of us to think like that anymore. We go to the clubroom because it’s fun, because we’re not a band without you. I thought about what you said, about being strong, and I realized you were right, sort of. We can be strong, but I think we’re the strongest when we’re together. Please don’t cut yourself off from us because you think you’re holding us back. You’re good enough, Azu-nyan.”

Azusa waited for some elaboration, but Yui had only stopped to stare at her with a raw, passionate expression. Whatever innocence usually diluted any seriousness Yui attempted to inflect her words and actions with was absent, leaving only heavy expectation. “Okay?” she responded, unsure of what the racing of her heart meant.

“You understand? You’re good enough for us, Azu-nyan. Don’t you ever forget that, okay?”

There was something Yui meant behind that sentence, but Azusa found herself getting lost in the intensity of Yui’s expression. The unwarranted faith Yui was placing in her kouhai surrounded her, choking her out of a proper response. “T-thanks, Yui-senpai,” Azusa managed to get out, pulling herself away from her senpai’s grip so she could breathe once more.

By the time Azusa stabilized herself, Yui’s familiar visage had returned. “Great! I didn’t know what to say besides that, so I’m glad it worked, Ehehe.” She flashed a victory sign. “In any case, this is where we split. I’ll see you tomorrow, Azu-nyan. Don’t forget lunch tomorrow!”

Nearly forgetting where she was and what she was doing from the whiplash, Azusa waved back to her senpai on instinct. “Same to you!” Azusa called out as her senpai skipped away, hiding the fact that she had forgotten Yui’s invitation already.

While making her way home, Azusa’s mind was as blank as the carpet of snow that covered the ground. Nothing felt important enough to focus on, every problem she attempted to analyze scattering into useless bits of information like dandelion seeds in the wind if she thought too hard. Her commitment to withholding concerns from her other senpais didn’t even feel more or less correct than the opposite action. The same breakdown that had granted her clarity on what she truly wanted had created far more problems than it solved. Arriving at and slinking into her own home dejectedly, Azusa was startled by her mother, who was rarely even home at this hour, immediately accosting her. “Ah, Azusa, darling, you’re home. How was school?”

Azusa raised an eyebrow at her mother’s unexpected presence as she took her shoes off, her brain reverting to her default response. “Fine. There are no issues with my grades, mother. I’m going to my room to study.”

Mrs. Nakano beamed; her daughter’s plight lost on her. “Excellent, excellent! Just making sure you’re keeping up with your studies! It’s important to make sure you get into a prestigious college, after all.”

Azusa sighed to herself. She didn’t need her mother to remind her of that. She briefly entertained the idea of venting to her mother before discarding the notion. Should her mother discover that the Light Music Club wasn’t the diligent source of guitar practice away from home she claimed it was, she could kiss her already brief time remaining with the club goodbye. “I know, mother. I really should get to my room. I have a lot of homework to do.”

Blocking the way to the stairs with her body, Mrs. Nakano's eyes glinted with what Azusa was sure was malintent that her tight-lipped smile couldn't cover for. “Before you go, have you given any more thought to having your friends over? I’m sure your father would love to hear more about your band, just as much as I would.”

Flashing back to this morning. Azusa sighed. “Mother, Yui-senpai isn’t rich. The girl in a maid outfit was her sister. You don’t need to bother with them. If you were interested, you would have said something two years ago.”

The woman gasped indignantly. “Azusa, come now, how could you accuse your own mother of something like that?! I may not be a musician anymore, but I have respect for fellow guitarists, no matter how… eccentric. You know very well why we haven’t been able to meet your band before now. It takes work to increase the social power of the Nakano name. Not a single step can be skipped on the path to true success, you know that. Of course, that doesn’t mean people who don’t want to succeed as soon as possible can’t take breaks. We have a rare few days off in the immediate future with no plans for the moment. Please at least consider letting us make up for lost time?”

Azusa bit back a retort to spit into her mother’s empty words. _I wish we could, really, but I just can’t trust you not to drop everything the second it stops being useful. I’ll show you I can be successful without sacrificing my soul. In any case, I have other people who care to worry about right now. _“I’ll think about it,” she responded evasively, heading for the stairs around her mother’s slim figure.

“Thank you for considering what I had to say. I love you, Azusa,” came the jarringly candid tone from behind Azusa as she passed by the woman.

Pausing mid-step, Azusa felt an emotion she had hoped had been quashed years ago welling up within her. It was a simple trick her mother employed, but Azusa’s stupid bleeding heart gave in every time. “I love you too, mother,” Azusa responded bitterly, resuming her march before the conversation could continue.

As soon as she was out of her mother’s oppressive sight, Azusa sprinted the remaining distance to her room and locked the rest of the world and her thoughts on her mother’s behavior away behind her. Resisting the urge to collapse onto her bed, the guitarist instead busied herself with removing the contents of her bag, still toting around the gifts from yesterday’s party. The plush cat and music sheets found a home next to Azusa’s guitar while the cat ears were shoved in the drawer with the other ones Yui, Sawako, and Ritsu had bought over the years for her. _I need to come up with a better excuse than I keep losing them. It makes me look careless anyways. _

Turning her attention to the joy buzzer, Azusa considered tossing it directly into the trash, but ended up leaving it on her dresser. Despite not having any intention of using it, Azusa felt obliged to at least hold on to a gift her senpai had given her, no matter how misguided it was. Finally, only Yui’s photo album remained. Azusa flipped though it idly, looking at the photos of the girls who had dominated much of the last two years of her life. The memories elicited a sense of longing from the kouhai. _I’ve enjoyed my time with them. This is more than enough proof of that. And the way Yui-senpai made me feel just now_ _can’t be faked. Of course not. The crux of the problem is that I can’t let them go. _Arriving at the blank page once more, Azusa frowned at the impending ending looming over her.

Averting her gaze to the pictures on her own wall, Yui’s words echoed in her head. “A picture where I’m smiling,” she repeated to herself.

The only picture that met the description happened to be the one Yui had put on the wall herself. She had some form of mirth showing in the other photos, but only in that picture was she smiling in response to Yui’s hug. Recalling what her senpai had said, only one course of action felt appropriate. Azusa pulled the picture off of the wall and slid it into the empty slot of the photo album, completing it. “Yui-senpai will like this,” Azusa told the picture. “I can’t stop the school year from ending, but I can control other things. This is proof that I can’t just give up.” Azusa took her proof and placed it back in her school bag, compelled to show Yui her addition.

“In fact, I’ll show it to all of them,” Azusa blurted out, thinking aloud as she met the eyes of her senpais evenly. “Yui-senpai was right. We should have all started talking about this and kept talking about it from the beginning. But this time, I’ll lead the charge instead of Yui-senpai, and we’ll actually come up with a solution together. I don’t have to do this alone. Yes, together we’re stronger, ne, senpais? You can’t play a guitar properly with only one string. I’ll prove what our bond can do.”

Doubt clawed at Azusa’s resolve, but she held firm, taking solace in Yui’s reassurance. Unlike her previous attempts at reclaiming the past, she wasn’t going to go it alone this time. If Yui claimed that she and the others were putting their faith in her, then she would endeavor to meet their expectations and save the band’s future with their help. Feeling particularly inspired, Azusa sat at her desk and opened the drawer containing her unfinished papers. She withdrew four sheets of paper, each bearing its fair share of scratched out sentences and eraser marks. They were the graduation letters Azusa had started for her senpais the night after their final performance, the solace of expressing her sense of loss in written form having served as a suitable form of sublimination to help her sleep that night. None of the papers had been touched since that night, Tsumugi’s paper still warped near the bottom where old tears had dried up. Now, however, Azusa felt clarity guide her hand. _I owe more to them than I can express in a page or two. But if I can’t properly tell them how I feel in writing, I’ll just end up breaking down like I did with Yui-senpai when I try to tell them in person. Yes, this is what I should be doing right now. I must be a good kouhai. The problem is clear. It has nothing to do with Yui-senpai’s feelings, or everyone else’s strange behavior. They’re all symptoms of a disease that I can cure by resolving our graduation. So tell them what you all need to hear._

Azusa wrote and rewrote her letters of thanks long into the night, determination overriding her need to eat or sleep. Now that she had accepted the coming of the end, not actively working towards dealing with it was unacceptable. The letters filled themselves with far more useless scribbles than tangible thoughts, but painstaking progress was made as the moon climbed into the sky. As she finished the last line on a letter that wasn’t meant to be delivered for months, Azusa found herself without the energy to celebrate. The rational side of her tried to remind her that there was homework due tomorrow that probably should have been done hours ago, but for once, Azusa couldn’t care less about academics. As she rested her head on her desk to rest for just a moment, surrounded by every reason she cared about Ho-kago Tea Time, every note played in between lazy afternoons, she finally began to feel as if there was a chance things could truly go back to normal.


	15. Confess!

**November 15th, 27 Minutes Before School Starts**

“Cool, I guess we’re not dead yet.” Despite this being the truth, Ritsu’s whole body was acting like it wanted to kill her with the various signals of hurt firing off all over her body.

Ritsu hated getting hurt, which wasn’t the same thing as experiencing pain. The two were similar, yes, but only in the sort of way that fish and birds could be likened together for both having eyes. One swam out of sight most of the time, the other flew where it could only ever be seen. Pain was a fleeting ailment, hurt stuck like gum to your shoe. Pain was the needles that filled Ritsu’s mouth when she inhaled sharply on a winter day, drawing labored breaths after a morning run through the neighborhood. It was the callouses that formed on her hands after hundreds upon hundreds of drumbeats over the weeks of practice she sank into a piece before she got bored and switched to another song. More commonly, pain was Mio’s fist delivering biased justice upon evildoers such as Ritsu, a deserved punishment for her antics depending on who was being asked. Pain was expected, welcomed, and most importantly, predictable for Ritsu. If she wanted fish, she knew exactly where to find them. Birds weren’t so considerate as to stay confined to bodies of water, so she couldn’t control when she’d run into one. Hurt always came from an unexpected time and source, like when she got sick, injured herself, or her bandmates decided to attempt to destroy the band they had spent years cultivating with her. There was no predicting when it would strike, so Ritsu had decided the best solution was to never look up. Thinking about the next time things would get difficult would only make the times that were easy harder.

The stinging sensation running from Ritsu’s wrists to the end of her forearms was a crucial reminder that ignoring getting hurt could only get her so far. Wincing, she flexed her fingers to ensure nothing was broken as her mind processed the last five seconds that had caused her to go from walking to school normally to lying prone on the sidewalk. Laughing foolishly in the face of years of experience, the drummer had relied on her useless hands to break her fall when gravity had decided to remind her who was in charge. The biting cold punished Ritsu’s exposed face as it remained buried in the pile of snow by the sidewalk’s edge. Confirming for certain that she wasn’t dying, Ritsu confronted the source of the calamity that had befallen her. “And that’s why I stopped walking to school with you in the winter, Mio,” Ritsu commented, yanking her head recklessly out of its fragile prison. “And you wonder why I suggested taping our amp cords down. You really couldn’t find anything else to drag down to hell with you? Honestly, how’d you survive this many wild patches of ice already?”

On Ritsu’s left, a groan that resembled an insult told her that Mio had also survived the last five seconds. Had she not been busy making sure all of her bones were still in their proper locations, Ritsu would have bothered to ensure the clumsy bassist hadn’t broken something herself. Instead, she focused on getting feeling back in her hands and collecting her thoughts while she waited for Mio to assess her own condition. The pair had been on their way to school, discussing a topic boring enough for Ritsu to have already blocked it from her memory, when Mio had decided to start complaining about the admittedly freezing weather. Frankly, Ritsu agreed that winter could shove ice and snowstorms right where the sun didn’t shine, but arguing filled time much more efficiently than shooting the breeze pleasantly. When Ritsu insisted that she preferred the atmosphere of a colder town, Mio had made her next point by slipping on a patch of ice on the sidewalk, dragging her friend down by the skirt in the process. Chuckling at the fresh memory of Mio’s terrified expression, Ritsu sat up, shaking off the snow that clung to her as she assessed her best friend’s condition. “Ne, you good over there? Nothing broken?”

Though Mio had sat up as well, small lumps of snow contrasting well with her raven-colored hair, she didn’t indulge in Ritsu’s goading. Her attention was instead entirely wrapped up by the bass guitar within her bag. She ran her hands along every inch of the instrument from the agape zipper seam, feeling it up for even the slightest scratch caused by an impromptu visit to the ground. The obsessive display would likely have attracted gawkers besides Ritsu, had any been moronic enough to be outside in sub-zero temperatures. Knowing she was underneath a glorified piece of wood with strings attached on Mio’s hierarchy of importance irked the drummer. “Oi, Mio, I think the fall might have ruptured my heart and both of my lungs,” Ritsu lied, gasping for air and holding out a hand to the sky melodramatically. “I… I don’t think I’m gonna make it. My apologizes, Mio-chan. If only… if only we could have-”

“Hush,” Mio commanded, undeterred in continuing her investigation diligently. “You can survive anything, so suck it up. I have to keep my bass in good condition, since I don’t have the time or spare allowance to purchase replacement parts at the moment.”

The urge to push the envelope on Mio’s frankly adorable attachment to her instrument was tempting, but Ritsu quickly discarded the notion. There wasn’t much point if Mio wasn’t planning on listening enough to be embarrassed. Instead, she stood up and reclaimed her school bag, stretching out her complaining limbs casually. “Didn’t you already call me irreplaceable?” she reminded her friend mischievously, winking at someone who wasn’t looking at her. “And more importantly, where’s my apology from my friend who nearly killed me just now? Gravity affects me too you know!”

“There’s a difference between something being irreplaceable and being worth replacing,” Mio coldly countered, before burying her head further into her bag, cheeks dusted with pink by the weather. “Sorry. Not getting enough sleep leaves me on edge all morning. I didn’t mean to take you to the ground with me, you were just the closest thing to me when I fell.” When Mio finally withdrew from her bag, she had taken a composed neutral expression with her.

Ritsu grinned at the opportunity, offering a hand with insincere civility. When Mio accepted the drummer’s assistance, Ritsu clamped down on her friend’s hand as she rose, roughly pulling the bassist up to stand uncomfortably close to her savior. “Give me five bucks and we’ll call it even. Medical bills.”

Mio swatted Ritsu’s fiscally motivated generosity away irritably, steadying herself by her own power. “Yeah, yeah, baka, I said I was sorry. You never apologized for that creepy picture you left in my desk the other day, so be grateful I said anything at all. Come on, I don’t want to be late.” Adopting a brisk powerwalk, Mio made it almost half a block away before Ritsu managed to wake up her still recovering legs enough to pursue.

Lightly jogging up to the runaway, Ritsu anchored an arm on Mio’s shoulder dangerously, knowing it would physically induce her friend to slow down without her having to beg for it. Jostled from her rhythmic pace, Mio did just as Ritsu intended, with a glare that could kill an elephant to boot. “Now now, no need to get all huffy with me, young lady. Barnacles happen to be my calling card as an artist. You’ll be thanking me when you’re able to sell my pictures for millions.” The cheekiest grin Ritsu could manage challenged Mio’s disdainful stare. “Come on, smile, you grump.”

All of Ritsu’s efforts culminated in a scoff from Mio. The bassist casually slid a bit to the left, very nearly reintroducing Ritsu to the ground. “I’ll smile the next time you play on tempo,” she promised icily.

Instantly, Ritsu groaned in a dramatic fashion while using the momentum of her close call to carry herself forward and in front of Mio. The back of her hand rested on her forehead as she played at a theatric pose that cut off Mio’s path. “And here I thought I was the funny one, but it seems the great dangerous queen Mio has no need for her fool any longer. You want to complain about my tempo when your adaptation to my pace improves our songs? Are you finally running out of complaints for my impeccable work?”

Holding such a flamboyant pose for the increasing number of seconds it took Mio to react had evidently been a mistake, but Ritsu had already committed to her mission. Though Mio’s condescending presence told her almost exactly what she was likely going to hear, Ritsu felt obligated to draw out the response anyways. Slipping past her friend and her rapidly stiffening joints, Mio let out a melancholic sigh. “You’re creating unnecessary hurdles for everyone.”

The implication hung in the air between the two, much heavier than Ritsu expected. Mio took the lead once more, maintaining a pace and a half distance from her companion. Even without the distance, Ritsu still would have felt isolated as she abandoned her fledgling acting career to resume walking. The drummer stared at the back of Mio’s head, mulling over her next move. Though Mio could be downright cruel when she wanted to be, Ritsu wasn’t used to being so thoroughly shut down by her best friend. Granted, she knew exactly why Mio had been distracted enough to cause the bassist to ramble about meaningless topics and slip on easily avoidable ice patches, but the fixing it part of the process hadn’t quite come to her yet. This left criticism as her only method to change Mio’s mood to something more positive. “You’re still hung up on that?” Ritsu complained, stopping next to Mio once more in front of a crosswalk. “I told you to give me more time. What are you, the promise police?”

It wasn’t a complete lie that Ritsu wanted more time. What she wanted it for just happened to fit a slightly different purpose than decision-making. Mio stared at the entrancing snowfall, her attempts to take a definitive lead thwarted by Ritsu as the girls made their way across the street. Ritsu’s try at building a rapport fell short of eliciting a response from Mio, and the two remained in a mum stalemate long after the crosswalk became a distant memory. The tension between the two was enough to make Ritsu’s body itch. _Somehow, I’m the only one actually trying to keep the club together until March, when I’m also apparently the only one who understands we won’t be playing together again. Did they forget why I bothered to save this club from disbanding in the first place three years ago? It’s served its purpose. The least they could do is not try to ruin everything right at the end. Maybe I should fake the flu so she’ll get off my back for a while. That’d give me time to figure out how to bring everyone back to their senses. I’m sick of getting hurt looking for things that don’t exist._

Passerby were a rare commodity, only girls in uniform like them stuck braving the elements to get to school able to give the two the wide berth their hostile presence commanded. Ritsu was tempted to ask them if there was a way to make her friend understand what she was doing. They might be able to explain to the dense bassist that she was making more than a few mistakes with her delusions of grandeur. Her fingers rapped out a beat in her jacket pocket as her thoughtless comment punctuated their conversation longer than she meant it to. Fortuitously, Mio eventually shifted her weight as they walked, the bass guitar case now leaning on the far side of her body to Ritsu. “I’m going to talk to Yui-chan again about my idea,” she declared, conviction greeting the drummer as the door to conversation was opened once more.

Alarms blared in Ritsu’s head the way they had when Yui had told her how she felt about Azusa. Getting caught in a situation where she’d have to explain herself to Mio and Tsumugi was bad, but she knew for a fact that Yui wouldn’t understand her reasoning. _But if Mio catches on that that’s why I don’t want her to know, she’ll know something’s up. I can’t let that happen, either. Curse them all. They’re all getting smacked later._ “Do what you want,” she pretended to advise. “I don’t think the answer you’ll get out of her will be any straighter than yesterday, but maybe you’ll get lucky. It’s worked for me.”

Though she wouldn’t let their eyes meet, Mio subconsciously matched Ritsu’s pace as her way of letting her friend know where she stood. The stiffness in Mio’s gait bothered Ritsu, but she didn’t have the leverage at the moment to afford to show it, lest Mio close herself off again. “We still owe her an explanation for our argument anyways. She was acting so aloof yesterday that it’s a wonder she didn’t drift off.” The guitar bag drooped slightly as Mio’s hands shifted positions. “I don’t like feeling like we’re keeping things from her, even if it’s not on purpose.”

“Then do something about it,” Ritsu replied, transitioning effortlessly into a bored tone. “Stop telling me and your mirror you’re gonna tell her and do it before we have this conversation again tomorrow.” She knew she came off as a bit callous, but there apparently was far less time than she initially anticipated to get Mio ready for the real world.

The risk of abrasiveness paid off, preventing Mio from falling silent once more. “I’m not that wishy-washy,” the bassist argued, taking care to avoid another patch of ice on the sidewalk. “You’re the one who has a decision to make. I know you want more time, but entrance exams aren’t going to wait forever.”

In response, Ritsu flashed one of the books in her bag. “One, I’ve been studying for over a month already because a certain somebody wouldn’t leave me alone until I did, even though I told her I haven’t decided on what to do about college yet. Two, you asked me this morning if you should put on your left shoe or your right shoe first when you get to school,” Ritsu reminded the bassist. “Followed by a very, very, very, very long explanation on why the process of getting dressed and ready in a right-hand dominated society was hard for southpaws like you. Honestly, if you hadn’t yanked me to the ground, I would have ended up there when I passed out from boredom.”

Mio blushed over her pink cheeks, her investment in their previous conversation apparently not deep enough for her to realize how strange it was. This, of course, didn’t mean she could afford to be seen as weird. “Well, it’s important!” she doubled down. “When you have two options, and you have to make the same decision every day, don’t you want to make the right one? I mean, sure, you can think that they have no meaning, but there’s a reason that they say to put your best foot forward. Should I go with the right shoe because that’s my dominant foot, or with my left shoe because that’s closer to my dominant hand? What if picking the wrong shoe causes something terrible to happen?” For the first time since they fell, Mio gave Ritsu an imploring look.

Holding Mio’s stare hostage was fun, but it didn’t give Ritsu the divine inspiration necessary to solve her friend’s conundrum. “They’re shoes, Mio,” Ritsu explained in a tone that implied this somehow answered Mio’s question. As annoying as Mio’s insignificant dilemmas could be, Ritsu far preferred listening to them, because they meant Mio was struggling with problems that had solutions. That didn’t mean Ritsu was always in the mood to be helpful. “Ne, speaking of literally anything else, isn’t that Yui?”

Still ready to do battle for her argument, Mio blinked a few times, scathing words dying in her throat as she realized that Ritsu was right. Yui and Ui were huddling together for warmth, sharing a scarf as they loitered near the train station entrance. This development bred newfound confidence in the black-haired bassist. “Perfect. I’ll show you I can make a decision. Yui-chan, hey, over here!” Mio waved eagerly at the pair as Ritsu looked on, wondering too late if calling out Yui’s presence had been her smartest decision. _Eh. Not like she’d ignore us walking by anyways._

When Yui caught sight of Ritsu and Mio, she waved both arms in the air wildly and charged towards the pair, only to topple to the ground immediately, having forgotten she was attached by the scarf to her sister. Snow went flying everywhere as the girls struggled to untangle themselves and Ritsu held back a chuckle that Mio frowned upon. By the time Ritsu and Mio reached the pile of sisters, they had untangled themselves and managed to stand once more, Yui wholly undeterred by her spill. Despite more or less expecting this turn of events from the second Mio opened her mouth, Ritsu found herself smiling dumbly at her partner in crime. “I can’t say I don’t appreciate the attention, but maybe don’t try to kill your sister to come say hi next time, Private Yui,” Ritsu chided good-naturedly, shoving aside her trepidation over Mio’s next move. “What are you two doing out here?”

Yui bounced from one foot to the other, too hyper to focus on frivolous things like talking to people normally. “I have an announcement, and I need everyone to hear it!” she proclaimed too loudly, catching unwanted attention from some passerby. “Also, Ui, are you okay?”

As soon as she noticed everyone’s stares, Ui put on a blatantly forced smile, subtly removing the scarf from her neck while trying not to look like she had just almost suffocated. “I’m feeling great, Onee-chan!” Ui squeaked, earning Ritsu’s pity.

While Ritsu shooed off the commuters and herded her group into a slightly more secluded location, Mio handled the interrogation of the airhead. “Then text us, maybe?” Mio suggested, holding up her phone. “There’s no need to wait out in this blasted cold for us to pass by. What if we had gotten a ride to school today because of the weather?”

“This had to be in person!” Yui insisted, brushing right over the fallacies in her machinations. “And besides, waiting out here is fun, right Ui?”

“I don’t think I can agree with you there, Onee-chan,” Ui admitted, rubbing her neck wearily. “Honestly, I preferred when you didn’t like the cold. I’m glad you came by though, senpais. It’s good to see you.”

As Mio greeted Ui formally for the both of them, Ritsu focused her attention on Yui’s outlandish claims. “Last time I checked, Private, you couldn’t survive air conditioning for five minutes. Tell me your secrets.”

Nodding while continuing to hop up and down boisterously, Yui rolled up her jacket sleeves as evidence. “I’m cold-proof now!” Yui proudly declared, placing her hands on her hips. “I can handle any temperature for at least ten minutes! I have the strength of a million Yuis!” Goosebumps immediately appeared on Yui’s arms.

Ritsu glanced past Yui to the more sensible half of the family. Ui met Ritsu’s gaze, a caretaker’s exhaustion in her eyes. If she told Ritsu she hadn’t slept since the party, the drummer wouldn’t have questioned her. The younger sister rolled her elder’s sleeves back down for her. “Onee-chan, you nearly ran a fever this morning. If this wasn’t important, I would have made you stay home myself.” She frowned contemplatively, glancing towards the train station. “Please, if you’re going to behave irrationally, at least let me make sure you do it with a coat on.” Ui finished removing herself from Yui’s scarf and fully draped it around her older sister tenderly, her reward taking the form of Yui’s smile.

“Well, what’s with the pomp and circumstance, then?” Ritsu questioned helpfully, subtly nudging Yui back on track. “Mio doesn’t want to be late for some reason.”

“Don’t act like that’s the weirdest thing that’s happened in the last 5 minutes,” Mio chided. “What’s the problem, Yui-chan? Grades again?”

Yui paused for a moment, the lack of understanding in her eyes making Ritsu wonder if the guitarist had already forgotten why she had dragged her poor sister out into the cold. _I’d never treat Satoshi like that. Then again, Satoshi doesn’t clean the house or cook for me like Ui does, so maybe I should be a less responsible older sister. Mio would probably get on my case for that though… Mou, I just can’t win today._ In the time it took Ritsu to lament her souring fortunes, Yui remembered why she was here. “Oh, right! I want to wait for Mugi-chan first. All the seniors need to be here for this.”

“Don’t tell me you actually found a gig,” Ritsu guessed sarcastically, cupping her intangible breath in her mitten-covered hands. “I know for a fact there’s nothing available locally for at least the next month or so.”

“No! Well, yes to that second thing, but no to the gig!” Yui reported with a salute. “Don’t worry, this is important! I only summon everyone in the cold when it’s important!”

Mio’s visage darkened, no doubt recalling their meeting a week and a half ago. Though Ritsu hadn’t exactly had a blast either, she had come out of the meeting under the impression that everyone finally understood what they were supposed to be doing for the next few months. Those reassuring convictions had quickly been rectified, but Ritsu didn’t blame the meeting for that. _Is this supposed to be another meeting without the kid, then? That doesn’t make sense. Then again, neither does Yui hanging out on the roof every day while Mugi tries to play matchmaker and Mio shoots herself in the left foot with her university choice. I should have acted sooner. Maybe it really is too late to change their minds now._

“Last time you did this, everyone ended up crying,” Ritsu recalled pessimistically, keeping her musings to herself. “Forgive me if I’m not thrilled.”

A very familiar pain erupted on the top of Ritsu’s skull. “Baka. She told us there was something going on tomorrow already. Just go with it.” Mio placed her bag on the ground, signaling her acquiescence to Yui’s demand to wait.

_Just go with it? Who’s the Ritsu here? Are you that obsessed with this plan of yours? _“Oi, whose side are you on? I’m trying to get us all to school like respectable students!” Ritsu rubbed her head as she leaned against a solitary tree planted cruelly in the shadow of a nearby building.

The only acknowledgement Ritsu received was a frosty huff and a meaningless smile from Yui. Cursing the unique gift of her precious sanity, Ritsu busied herself with planning to scare Mio to death during lunch. Her scheming was swiftly cut short by a voice attached to the band’s keyboardist sounding off from the station entrance. “My my, I didn’t realize we were doing this here.”

“Mugi-chan!” Yui cooed, taking the blonde’s hands giddily as she joined the group of four. “You’re here! Everyone’s here now!”

“Nakano’s not here,” Ritsu reminded the airhead. “And she’s probably at school by now, which means we met here for no reason. In the cold. The freezing, painful, flu-inducing cold.” Tsumugi tilted her head at Ritsu’s attitude, but it was Yui who reacted first.

Yui released the keyboardist and spun around, now standing in the middle of a loose circle made by the other three seniors and Ui near the station entrance. “That’s what I wanted!” she exclaimed obliviously. “I need to tell you all before I tell Azu-nyan.”

“Tell us what?” Mio asked, an edge Ritsu wasn’t anticipating undercutting the otherwise pleasant nature of her tone.

Having mentally prepared herself for the theatrics she herself preferred to employ when delivering big news, the sudden determination that Yui met everyone’s eyes with unsettled Ritsu. “I’m gonna finally be honest with Azu-nyan,” Yui announced, bearing an expression that could defy God painted around a white shower of snowflakes. Like the snowflakes, Yui’s look vanished almost as soon as Ritsu registered it was there, the girl’s normal visage returning. “But I wanted to tell you all about it first.”

Mio and Ritsu exchanged dumbfounded looks while Tsumugi smiled on pleasantly. The childhood friends turned their attention to Ui, who was waiting expectantly in her sister’s shadow. “Translation, please,” Ritsu requested.

Ui nodded compliantly, taking her sister’s hand to stave off the redness encroaching on her cheeks. “W-well, Onee-chan has decided to be honest about her… romantic feelings for Azusa-chan. She has those feelings, and I am okay with that, after confirming it myself. Multiple times. Many times.” Realizing that she was only encouraging doubt from everyone who wasn’t Tsumugi or Yui, Ui hurried onward. “Anyways, since both she and Azusa-chan are integral members of the band, she decided to approach you all on the topic before making any drastic moves. She’d like your opinions and approval of her plan, and she _isn’t _going to do anything unless you’re all okay with it.” Something about Ui’s inflection told Ritsu that the second part may have been more Ui’s idea than her sister’s, but that didn’t have anything to do with the frustration building like a clogged water main inside her chest over her confirmed fears.

“Oh, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Tsumugi polled the room. “I always knew this day would come, but now that it’s here, I, well, ah, excuse me.” The heiress paused to collect herself, her mind racing far faster than her mouth could keep up with.

Ritsu’s ire found a reliable target. “Mugi, we talked about this, didn’t we? Mou, I feel like a broken record.” The drummer shoved her hands into her pockets so nobody could see the fists she was forming. “No more bull, Mugi. Don’t act like you didn’t have something to do with this miraculous burst of maturity Yui is displaying.” Her accusatory statement shattered Tsumugi’s good mood.

The heiress blushed crimson anew, though her eyes glinted with a distinct lack of emotion. Ritsu recognized the same presence as the person who had confronted her and Mio in the hedge maze almost a week ago. _That’s more than enough proof that I’m right. Mou, Mugi, you don’t have to get so serious about this. People like you are supposed to hire people like Mio to do that for you. _Straightening her posture, Tsumugi opened her mouth to respond, only for Yui to jump in unannounced.

“This is my idea, Ricchan! I spent a ton of time thinking about this with everyone and by myself on the roof, and I decided that the best thing I can do to help everyone is be honest with myself and you all.” Yui placed a hand over her heart, pulling away from her sister’s grasp to make her impassioned plea from the center of her friend circle. “It’s selfish, I know, but… I don’t want anyone in the club to go. That thought makes me really sad, and I can’t ignore it anymore, because I really do need you all. I tried really hard, but I couldn’t figure out what to do about it. The only thing that made sense was that I didn’t want to let Azu-nyan go, not without telling her how I feel, how really important she is to me. It’s… it’s like Giita! I never want to let Giita go, ever!” She blushed and made direct eye contact with the pavement, uncharacteristically bashful.

The smile adorning Tsumugi’s face showed up the rising sun behind her. “We’re behind you 100%, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi reassured, her body shaking with a child’s innocent wonder. “I’m sure everything will work out wonderfully. Right, everyone?”

“Correct, Mugi-senpai,” Ui responded instantly, her arms crossed and her eyes focused solely on her sister from her shadow. “I will support Onee-chan, no matter what.” Based on what she knew of Yui’s sister, Ritsu suspected that she and Tsumugi had different definitions of wonderful.

At Ui’s ambiguous words, Yui whirled around and hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Ui, Mugi!” Ui smiled slightly but didn’t react otherwise as she was smothered.

Sensing that she didn’t have long before Ui’s willpower broke and she reacted enough to completely derail the conversation, Ritsu sought out her only potential ally. For her part, Mio was focused on a point nobody else could see, hand to her chin as she processed the entire situation. Trying and failing to catch the bassist’s eye, Ritsu settled for glaring at the sky. She wanted to know whose side Mio was on before she took her stance, but the expectant looks from Tsumugi and Ui were forcing her hand as the club president. She took a step forward to claim the party’s attention, putting on her best authoritative tone. “Yui, you’re my bandmate and I love you, but Nakano doesn’t, not in the way you say you feel about her. At most, she feels the same platonic love you do for everyone else. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand your logic, if there is any. Do you even know what you’re saying, what the point of being in a relationship is? It’s not the same thing as just hanging out and drinking tea, understand? We’re talking about a serious commitment here, or at least we should be. Don’t even get me started on all the problems you’ll have to deal with learning how to be a half-decent girlfriend. Mio at least agrees with me, don’t you Mio?” She clamped a hand on Mio’s shoulder as hard as she could without having to send her friend to the hospital.

Mio started, jarringly anchored in reality once more. “Huh? We’re talking about Yui-chan and Azusa-chan?” she wondered aloud, clearly having paid close attention to what was happening.

Ritsu frowned. “Oi, space cadet, keep up. Remember a few days ago? Tell Yui what we talked about.”

The bassist found her footing, recognition lighting up her expression. “Oh, you want to talk about the college idea finally?” she hopefully asked.

Irked, Ritsu stamped her foot near Mio’s, causing the girl to jump back and nearly tumble over. “No, you idiot, we’re talking about Yui and Nakano’s relationship prospects! Yui, if you tell her, and when she rejects you, she might not want to stay in the band anymore. Your twisted version of a relationship isn’t going to get you anything what you have right now doesn’t already provide, so it’s not worth risking our rhythm guitarist. Do you understand what I’m saying? This isn’t selfish, it’s immature. Yeah, the club isn’t going to last forever, but damn it, we’ve got a good quarter of a year left in us. Don’t do this.” Pausing to breathe, Ritsu was able to properly take in the dejected expression she had created on her friend.

Yui sighed, her eyes still trained towards the center of the Earth. “I know, okay, Ricchan? I know I’m immature, powerless. I tried being mature, but it didn’t work, so all I have left is being me.” As she spoke, Ui moved closer to her sister to offer comfort, but Yui shook her head, insisting that she forge ahead alone.

“Ricchan, it took me a long time to figure out exactly why I felt differently around Azu-nyan, why I loved her differently than the rest of you. I felt guilty for a while, like I was giving her special treatment because I liked her more, but she made me realize that wasn’t it. It’s not that I like her more, I just like her differently, and that’s okay.” The guitarist rubbed her forehead, her strength bleeding from her words as she struggled to fill them to the brim with conviction. “I know I’m not the best thinker, and being mature is really hard, but I know that she’s special to me, Ricchan. Wouldn’t you want to go after someone like that, no matter what?” Pathos killed Yui’s attempts at establishing credibility as she questioned the club president, who found herself lacking an immediate response.

_Would I seize that opportunity? Of course not. It’s not worth the price of admission. But I already told you that. What more do you want me to say?! _Ritsu found herself allowing the situation to become awkward. Fate threw her a bone, however, one of Yui’s remarks triggering a reaction in Mio that revived the bassist in time to replace the drummer’s position. “Yui-chan, what if we don’t have to go our separate ways after school ends in March? What if we kept the band together through next year?” she suggested.

Instead of immediate enthusiasm, Yui merely tilted her head, confused. “Azu-nyan’s graduating early?” she asked with only a hint of hope in her tone. “How does that work?”

Mio grimaced, one of the larger flaws in her plan exposed. “Ah, well, I don’t really have a way to do anything about that, though you’re more than welcome to encourage her. If you’re planning on seriously going through with this, and it somehow works out, I doubt she’d say no. In any case, I was referring more to the four of us sticking together in the same university, the one Mugi-chan is planning on attending.”

The information took a moment to reach Yui’s processing center. “You want us all to go there? Isn’t it really hard to get in? Can Ricchan make it?”

Ritsu interrupted her own self-reflection to smack Yui on the head. “Worry about yourself, you moron. And nothing has been decided yet. We’re just fielding your opinion,” she berated and explained before retreating into her own thoughts, failing to notice the death glare Ui was giving her.

Rubbing the top of her head, Yui frowned. “Owie. University with you all sounds great! I’d love to do that! But, we can’t bring Azu-nyan, so it won’t really be HTT without her, will it?”

“We were the founding members of HTT,” Tsumugi gently reminded the guitarist. “Though Azusa-chan is certainly one of us, I’m sure our band will survive until she is able to rejoin our group. She wants to stay with us no matter what, just as you do, ne? It’s important we remain a unit until then so that she has something to come back to.”

Yui found herself nodding in agreement, Ritsu’s worst case scenario. “Huh. That makes sense. It’d be nice to go to college with friends. We could have after-college tea-time! We’d have to change our band name! Wait, Ui, when does college get out every day?”

Unwilling to let Ui even try to answer that question, Ritsu raised her hand. “Hold on, what does that have to do with a romantic relationship?” she cut in, attempting to steer the conversation away from university attendance. “Mugi, this isn’t a soap opera. We have phones. Nobody is going to just cut off contact because we aren’t going to the same school or getting busy together. Let’s focus on Yui’s, ah, proposal.”

The extreme blush on Ui’s face was hot enough to warm up her sister. Tsumugi didn’t fare much better, turning away briefly to compose herself again. While Yui looked on, utterly baffled by the reactions of the girls around her. _Half of my friends have the minds of toddlers that think the word boob is funny. At least it’s useful in situations like this._ Mio glared at Ritsu but didn’t directly reprimand her. “Well, I’m glad that four of us have plans, but I don’t think I can wait a year to tell Azu-nyan everything. Talking about weird feelings makes you feel better, so I should probably still tell her today,” Yui pondered at the group. “I want you all to have a say too, though. Is today a good day for everyone?”

More than a bit flabbergasted that her carefully laid plan that included months of preparation and groundwork to produce a successful outcome had been written off with one line, Mio’s well of responses ran dry. Tsumugi took her turn to pick up the slack. “Of course! Truthfully, it’s only one year apart, and we’ll have each other in the meantime. This is exactly what we’ve always wanted!” the heiress encouraged.

Ritsu found her fists clenching involuntarily. _Why are you acting like Mio’s plan has been set in stone? Were you listening to anything I just said? This is HTT’s life we’re talking about here. The second we commit to this plan, we might as well kiss Budokan goodbye. Now Yui’s lovestruck, Mio’s delusional, Mugi’s pulling the strings, and I’m the bad guy for thinking realistically. When did everyone but me go insane?! _“Why are you all so hellbent on driving us apart?!”

Everyone froze, Ritsu’s outburst stealing their full attention. It was tempting to walk herself backwards, but Ritsu couldn’t bring herself to form the necessary words to do so. Instead, she turned away from the group, back towards the path to school, doubling down on the new flow she had interrupted the conversation’s wavelength with. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. Your ideas, of college, romance, all of it’s going to end up in is a shitty 3 months for everyone involved, if we’re lucky enough to last that long. Fine then. Do what you want, Yui, Mio, Mugi. Go find everlasting happiness in dreamland. As club president, I’m calling off practice until you all come back to reality.” Her ultimatum delivered, Ritsu shuffled out of the circle, feeling nothing close to the badass she had attempted to come off as.

The great escape was cut off by Mio, darting in front of her best friend. “And where do you think you’re going, spouting off nonsense like that and wandering off?” She placed her hands on her hips, reminding Ritsu uncomfortably of her mother. “What’s wrong, Ritsu? If something’s bothering you, then tell me, and let’s work this out like adults.” There was an unusual amount of concern Ritsu wasn’t sure how to respond to in Mio’s request.

A small part of Ritsu still wanted her to reconcile and forget all the trouble she was causing, but the rational side of her won out. There was no need to apologize for being right, after all. “Let’s get something clear. I’m not the one wandering away from what’s important to me. Going to university together isn’t what’s going to keep us together. If that’s all you think it takes, then we aren’t meant to make it to Budokan.” There was little weight behind Ritsu’s accusation that the band wasn’t going to meet their frankly ludicrous goal, but she knew it would give her enough time to sneak past the bassist and resume her walk to school. _I just need more time. If I get more time, I can stop this from happening. _

From somewhere behind the drummer, Yui’s voice piped up. “Ricchan, I didn’t mean-“

“I’m not telling you not to do what you want, Yui, because I know better than to try and do that. Do what you think you need to do.” _I will too, and with any luck, I’ll be just a bit faster than you at it, so long as I prevent something from happening today.__ You’ll understand when I get done saving the band._

The cold caught back up to Ritsu as her friends disappeared behind her. Guilt attempted to change her direction, induce her to repent for her behavior, but she knew better than to come crawling back to ask for forgiveness for no other reason than her conscious. Another drumbeat started in her pocket as she caught snowflakes in her other hand. “We’re a band. It doesn’t matter how long we stay together if it’s out of obligation. HTT wasn’t built on that foundation, and if it was, it shouldn’t have been.” The drummer kicked a pebble into the street. “Maybe this is what I get for sticking around morons like Mio. I should have known she’d be too sentimental to let us go. Not that I really want to go either. It’d be nice if we could keep going forever… damn it.” Indecision was absorbing all of Ritsu’s thought processes, paralyzing her as she attempted to walk away, and it made her want to run a marathon, if only to prevent herself from thinking about anything else.

This desire only strengthened as Ritsu detected the presence of followers. If she was having trouble just walking away, trying to explain herself would quickly lead to her saying something she’d regret. Hoping to get a jump on resuming her self-imposed solitude, Ritsu spun around to confront Tsumugi and Ui, leaving both parties startled, Ritsu having expected to see Mio or Yui. Tsumugi regained her bearings first. “Ricchan, I feel the need to apologize,” her honey-sweet voice admitted, tainted with just an iota of regret for her actions.

Ritsu had opened her mouth to accept the apology before she quickly closed it, refusing to be drawn away from her convictions so easily. “If you feel the need to apologize, then you think what you’re doing is wrong,” the drummer deduced, already preparing to turn away again. “Which means you should stop before Mio and Yui both do things they regret. You might be winning right now, but I won’t let the game end here.”

Tsumugi blinked, exchanging an honest glance of confusion with her partner. “Game? Ah, never mind for now. Ricchan, I’m truly, truly acting in everyone’s best interests,” she quietly explained with a teacher’s authority. “That includes you too, of course. I need to apologize on behalf of Yui-chan. I didn’t think she’d employ that particular argument to try to convince you to agree with her. Given how you feel, I should have-”

“Hey hey, there are children here!” Ritsu exclaimed tensely, shushing her friend while indicating Ui angrily. She wasn’t sure if Ui was in Mio’s fan club or not, but the last thing she needed was for her enemies to have even more ammunition to use against her and the bassist. “Apologize by bringing my friends back. We were fine until after the festival and that meeting. You aren’t acting like the Mugi I know, and what you’re doing is going to blow up in everyone’s face the second Yui attempts to confess. I don’t know how you can’t see that.”

Ui stepped up to stand next to Tsumugi, the threatening glare she was giving the drummer offset by the fact that she looked like she’d pass out if the wind blew the wrong way. “I want what’s best for Onee-chan too. I don’t appreciate seeing her get hurt.” Suddenly remembering that she had made the fatal mistake of smacking Yui right in front of her sister, Ritsu shivered, hoping that Ui had better things to do today than commit a felony. “But that can wait. From my perspective, you’re the only one who doesn’t want to change to meet the challenges of the future. Onee-chan has been trying really hard to figure out what she wants. Now that she’s finally making progress, I don’t want her to stop. You know that none of us can actually control her. She made this decision herself, no matter what you think about Mugi-senpai.”

“As I said, I merely encouraged Yui-chan to develop herself in a healthy manner,” Tsumugi vaguely added, taking a boldly assertive step forward. “HTT is my family. We have to stick together, help each other when we need it. I want to help you too.”

Ritsu sighed, shaking her head to get it refocused. “You two don’t get it. I’m not the one who needs help. Ui, you’re just choosing not to stop your sister because you don’t want to hurt her feelings. I’m almost certain you think this is just as bad an idea as I do. It’s written all over your face, right next to where you want to kill me and take a nap for a solid 24 hours. Please don’t kill me, by the way.” The half-joke didn’t calm Ritsu as much as she hoped it would, but she pressed on anyways. “Mugi, I trust you. You know that. At the same time, what you’re doing is going to get this band killed. I can’t stand by and watch it happen any longer. If you want me to change, then I’ll change.”

The drummer nodded back to the younger sister. “Ui, when’s Yui planning on doing this whole confession thing, assuming she’s still going through with it today?”

“Lunchtime,” Ui responded without thinking about the consequences of revealing that information.

Tsumugi didn’t even reprimand Ui with so much as a stern look, instead giving Ritsu all of her attention. “Please understand that everything will be fine after this is over. I’m sorry, Ricchan,” she apologized succinctly, nothing else rushing to quantify her statement.

“Don’t apologize, please,” Ritsu managed to request as her voice began to fail her, already feeling guilty for having upset Tsumugi despite her faith in herself. “We want the same thing. I’ll just have to be the one who steps up to get to it before it’s too late. Don’t worry, we’ll be practicing again as soon as we can. I’ll see you at school.” With a wave and a wall of ignorance as her shield, Ritsu sauntered away in a walk that quickly morphed into a sprint as her friends attempted to call out to her. Ritsu thought she heard Mio and Yui’s voices added to the girls she had seen, but she chalked it up to her imagination as she committed to reaching her classroom as soon as possible. For once, she was looking forward to being in a room where nobody was allowed to talk.

* * *

**November 15th, Lunchtime**

The plan was simple, by Azusa’s standards. Gather everyone up after school before they can settle into teatime. Explain what happened between her and Yui during the party, cutting out the more embarrassing parts. Once she’d explained where she stood and retrieved everyone’s college plans, or in Yui’s case, made her college plans for her, it was a simple matter of coordinating likely schedules to preserve HTT’s existence following March. There were plenty of potential obstacles, notably the nebulous nature of every step after the first one, but Azusa had two key advantages: obstinacy and physical evidence. In exchange for struggling through several pages of math homework just minutes before they were due earlier today, Azusa had used the previous night to write graduation letters for her senpais. She wouldn’t be handing them out, but they served as excellent references on the reasons why Azusa couldn’t allow the band to, for lack of a better word, disband. As extra insurance, she had brought along Yui’s photo album to present in the event that words failed her, erasing another potential caveat in her scheme. _We made a promise to go to Budokan together. It’s time we started acting like a band that’s actually trying to get there. I have to prove to them that we belong together, that I belong with them. _This mentality would have carried Azusa all the way to the end of the day, had she not thrown a massive wrench into her own plans with her plans.

In her tireless pursuit of information she could use to effectively reform the girl, Azusa had dug out her list on Yui-senpai’s faults that she had started keeping shortly after meeting her. It was this slightly crumpled and torn list that Azusa now glared at with undisguised resentment as her classmates busied themselves with the start of the lunch period. Despite making lunch plans herself, the raggedy piece of paper continued to steal Azusa’s time away as she attempted to burn a hole in it with her gaze. It was old, older than any other paper Azusa currently had on her, small tears on the corners and faded graphite near the top betraying its age. Only one recent marking marred the paper’s integrity as an artifact of history, one aging line circled in a fresh dark grey next to a rough sketch of a pair of cat ears. No amount of time appeared to be enough to convince her that what she was seeing was real. _This is dumb. I’m so dumb. I’ve kept this list all this time, diligently, might I add. How have I never noticed this before? If I want them to change back to normal, I have to have a clear picture of my goals for my senpais and myself. This line could ruin everything. _Azusa’s head found solace in her hands.

“What am I going to do?” she asked the paper, almost pleadingly. “Everything has to be perfect. I can’t face them without knowing exactly where I’m coming from.”

“Wanna try thinking for yourself?” came unwarranted advice from Azusa’s left. “It’s really fun, trust me.”

In the moment Azusa turned her head towards the familiar voice, the paper was snatched from her desk. Startled into a defensive reaction, Azusa grabbed at air as Jun held the paper away from the height-challenged guitarist. “Let’s see… ah, part 1, old school, I see! Reason number 4: I don’t like the cat ears she gives me. They’re annoying. True. Oh look, you circled reason 9: Yui-senpai is too cute. Huh?” Jun’s hand relaxed enough for Azusa to steal her list back. “Change your mind on that one? Should we ask the jury for a recount?”

Azusa scowled, but responded candidly. “No, that’s the problem. I need to use this list to explain to Yui-senpai how she can improve and keep our band together, and more importantly to prevent her from becoming a NEET. You’re right that I’ve been moping too long, so I’ve been working on a plan to bring our club back to how it was before the festival. The problem is this paper. I know I don’t think Yui-senpai is cute, so why did I write this down so long ago? This threatens the credibility of all of my points. If I can’t keep my list of complaints straight, I can’t even begin to work on improving Yui-senpai, let alone save our band. Jun-chan, am I going crazy?” Azusa shoved the paper somewhat safely next to its counterparts in her bag, balling up her skirt in her free hand.

“You went crazy a long time ago, don’t worry,” Jun sort of reassured, leaning against a desk another student was occupying. “Nobody can stay devoted to a group like yours for so long and get anything out of it but long-lasting psychological trauma. Wait, shit, where does that leave me? Azusa-chan, am I going crazy?” Jun smacked her cheeks together in a mocking gasp of horror.

Unamused and already on a short fuse, Azusa folded her arms to prevent herself from lashing out at her friend. “Don’t make light of my problems. They aren’t ideal, but they’re still my senpais, and I can’t say I don’t owe them for what they’ve done for me. It’s only fair that I find the way to pull us out of this slump.” Jun shook her head, both at Azusa’s response and the student angrily telling her to get off her desk.

“Well said, Azusa-chan,” Ui praised, coming up from behind the two with her own lunch in hand. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Everything is going to be fine.” The junior looked like she had walked to hell and back rather than across the room, her friendly smile covering for the vacant look in her eyes.

“Only because she has people like us watching out for her,” Jun added, not noticing Ui’s poor condition. “Someone needs to remind her that sane people exist in this world.”

Ui took visible offense to Jun’s jab at her sister but said nothing. Jun took this as an okay to continue berating the seniors of the Light Music Club as Azusa frowned over the girl’s colorful commentary. _She really does seem to have a problem with my senpais. Is this because of what happened last Friday? I’ll need to sit her down once I sort the band out and we fix our future plans. Ui-chan isn’t looking too great either. Maybe I’ll have them over this Sunday for a group outing. That might be a good way to clear the air with everyone, and we haven’t hung out in a while. That would be nice. _“In any case, I have plans for lunch,” Azusa announced to interrupt Jun’s senior rant, tardiness catching up to her. “I’ll meet up with you two later, alright?” As she rose, she couldn’t help but notice Jun’s eye rolling and Ui’s fidgeting, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t decide on what that something was.

“Just remember who the Light Music Club is going to be next year, if you don’t mind,” Jun ominously warned before turning away. “Come on, Ui, let her go before you do something dumb. If she says she’s gonna fix it, let her do it and be done with this mess.”

Ui kept her eyes fixated on Azusa as Jun dragged her back to their adjoining seats. Watching the pair walk off, Azusa felt a pressing urge to follow them, and even took a few steps in their direction before stopping herself. She knew her friends well enough by now to be able to tell that their dynamic had shifted, apparently overnight. Jun might be brash, but she never had the nerve to corral Ui around like a show dog, not when she had more experience than anyone with how truly terrifying Ui’s bad side was. _They know something about the band that I don’t. But there’s no time to worry about that now. I can’t be late for lunch._

Boxing up the temptation to probe further, Azusa rushed out the door. As she power walked down the hallway towards the clubroom, she found herself unexpectedly grateful for Yui’s random invitation to dine together. _That might be a bad thing now, though. The senpais I have today aren’t the same ones I had three weeks ago. I want to bring them back, and yet I’m still excited by the prospect of meeting Yui-senpai for lunch. It could end up exactly like yesterday. I know I don’t feel that way. I don’t! It’s impossible for me to feel that way about someone, least of all an idiot like Yui-senpai. A Nakano doesn’t have time for the heart to weigh her down. No matter what else happens, I cannot allow my illogical feelings to cause me to fail._

In spite of this argument, Azusa couldn’t hide from the fact that it was the saccharine time she spent with Yui and the others that drove her up the stairs after school every day. Had she truly been single-mindedly pursuing mastery of her craft, she’d have found anywhere else to practice guitar. It wasn’t a foreign idea to the guitarist that her time with the Light Music Club had had an adverse effect on her resolve to make effective use of her time, but little things still managed to surprise her. When she caught herself wishing she could have a cupcake instead of solving a math problem at home, or strumming the wrong chords to a song because they sounded more interesting, she was startled anew at how well her seniors had ingratiated their toxic laziness into her daily life. _And somehow, I’m grateful for that to the point I’m trying to get it back. But it’s not like the way we’re going is better than where we were before the festival. Yes, we cannot succeed without a return to form, to the lesser of these two evils. This is my chance to prove to them why we’re worth keeping together, so I don’t have to be without them next year. Well, after lunch, at least. Mou, I’m starving. That’s what I get for skipping dinner, I guess._

The growling of Azusa’s stomach punctuated her thoughts as her pace quickened. Hunger had a way of loosening her resolve to act, which meant she’d need to be full in order to effectively carry out her plan. Whatever Yui’s motives were, the girl was still her senpai, even if Azusa’s unintentional burst of candid information the other day had shaken her faith in the nature of their relationship somewhat. It didn’t matter what the kouhai thought of her senpai. If the senpai told the kouhai to do something, she had a duty to oblige if she could, just as it was the kouhai’s responsibility to ensure the senpais and club as a whole were successful. Yui was her senpai, so it was only natural that the kouhai, Azusa, join her for lunch if she asked. Chalking everything unusual that was happening up as being sourced around the band’s imminent disbandment certainly helped Azusa move along. It meant that, in solving that issue, she could remove all of her problems.

Pushing aside her conspiracies to give herself a desperately needed reprieve, Azusa reached the stairs leading to the clubroom. Though she had started later than she intended, she still would have made it on time, had Ritsu not been loitering by the base of the stairs like a circling vulture. The drummer noticed Azusa coming from the end of the hallway, but waited for her kouhai to come to her, not hiding her awareness of Azusa’s intended destination. The rare grim expression she had donned captured Azusa’s concern, but only long enough for Azusa to reach the drummer and bow formally. “Good afternoon, senpai,” Azusa greeted with respect drawn out by the desire to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Are you planning on joining me and Yui for lunch?”

Waving off Azusa’s proper hello with a simple “hey”, Ritsu gave her kouhai a once-over. “You’re just having lunch with Yui, huh?” she asked herself more than Azusa. “That’s it?”

Azusa patted her bag in response, trying not to fidget as her eyes flicked longingly towards the top of the stairs. “Yes. Are you coming? If not, I should go. I don’t want to be late.” The kouhai made it all of two steps towards Eden before her route was blocked.

The drummer kicked herself off of the wall to stand between Azusa and the stairs. Her shoulders were slightly sagged, as if gravity was taking particular exception to them. By her posture, Azusa presumed that Ritsu also knew some dire news that the rest of the class hadn’t thought to make her privy to. Combined with her leer and trademark disheveled uniform, Ritsu could pass herself off much better as a delinquent rather than a club president. “Look, I’m not in the mood to mess around today, Nakano. That means I need you to be straight with me when I ask you why Yui called you up there today. Go.” Ritsu pointed at the guitarist, making it perfectly clear that it was her turn to speak.

Azusa racked her distracted brain for any reason that Ritsu should care to this degree that she was having lunch with Yui. No solution was kind enough to come to her. “Uh, lunch?” she guessed, holding up her brown paper lunch bag. “Did you want to join us?”

Dropping her finger, Ritsu shook her head, now starting to pace back and forth on the first stair leading upwards. Azusa could feel a pout forming on her face, and she fought to maintain her composure. “No, kid. Come on, focus for me. We’re too close to the end of the line for this. Don’t you see what’s happening to us right now?” The floorboards underneath Ritsu squeaked just a bit louder with every turn of her heel.

Azusa tilted her head, her eyes already getting tired of following the drummer back and forth. “You’re distracting me from going to lunch, senpai. Can this wait? If there’s something important going on, you’ll have to tell me directly,” she elucidated in the hope that Ritsu would reciprocate sooner rather than later. The predictive statistics on how long Yui would be willing to wait before she just started eating without Azusa were not optimistic.

Unwilling to be helpful, Ritsu continued to pace, her next line being considered with care Azusa knew the drummer almost never put into her words. _If she’s this wound up, maybe I should listen to her. I have to help if something’s actually wrong. Maybe then she’ll let me eat something. _“Let me be as clear as possible then: Are you or aren’t you into Yui romantically, Azusa? I’m not judging you, but I need to know. The band depends on it.”

Having allocated most of her processing power to obtaining food, Azusa was unprepared to be interrogated on that particular topic, to the point that she dropped her lunch bag. In the time it took her precious rations to reach the ground, hundreds of scenarios flew through Azusa’s mind as she struggled to determine how the conversation had led to Ritsu asking that question. The predominant conclusion she came to was so outlandish that she didn’t immediately notice the bag landing on her foot. When seconds ticked by and the two girls did nothing but stare awkwardly at each other, Azusa found it in herself to wince unconvincingly and crouch down to gather up her lunch before it opened up onto the floor. “Um, why are you bringing this up?” she asked, stalling for time to find anything to prove her suspicions wrong. “I believe I’ve made it clear that she’s my friend, bandmate, senpai, and an airhead. I’d rather not get into this again, Ritsu-senpai. It’s not important.” The fluttering in Azusa’s chest begged to differ, but she shoved it aside the way she always had. She refused to allow her more ruinous impulses to muddy her purpose any longer.

“Oh no, don’t go dodging the question, buster,” Ritsu denied, leaning down into Azusa’s mask of indifference. “Romantically. Romance, not friendship. Tell me where you stand. Don’t run from this, or I’ll cancel practice today as the club president.” The drummer was so close that the tip of her nose was encroaching on Azusa’s, inclining the younger girl to lean back slightly.

Once it became apparent that there was no getting past Ritsu without a direct answer, Azusa sighed. Ritsu’s use of credible threats didn’t fit her teasing modus operandi. More disquieting was the rationale behind her behavior floating around in Azusa’s head. _Ritsu-senpai would only push me on this if she actually thought Yui-senpai was going to confess, but that’s impossible. Sure, she’s been acting strangely, and sure, she’s really affectionate, but she’s a child. This is the sort of thing I didn’t think we’d be dealing with for another year or two at least, and certainly not with Yui-senpai first. Besides, I already answered her question. Maybe fixing things will require more planning than I thought. I don’t want to hurt Yui-senpai’s feelings. Wait, why should I worry about that? Ritsu-senpai must have the wrong idea, or someone’s playing a prank on her. Maybe I should show her my list. _“Well, she’s cute,” Azusa spoke the first item of her list that came to mind without thinking, immediately covering her mouth as the words escaped. “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant to say! I don’t like Yui-senpai like that! We’re just friends, but she acts really cute sometimes and it’s annoying, okay? Being cute and being attractive are two very different things so don’t act like they are because they aren’t! She has tons of other character flaws besides that that she needs help fixing so she can be a responsible adult in the future stop looking at me like that!” Azusa stopped long enough to breathe as Ritsu stared dumbfounded at her kouhai.

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that,” Ritsu admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Let’s, ah, make this simpler, I guess. Do you love Yui, yes or no?” she tried again, crossing her arms.

Now thoroughly confused with herself, Azusa couldn’t manage to form words for a moment, every attempted response getting caught in her throat. She knew that she needed to explain that Yui meant nothing in that way to her, but the resolve she had been instilling within herself to open up to her senpais was dueling with this goal. The idea that she might not know that answer to Ritsu’s question terrified her. _Stupid, stupid list. Why did I have to read that thing? I’m only going to get one shot at this. I have to be stronger. Talk it out rationally. _“Well I-“

“Ah ah!” Ritsu interrupted, holding up a finger. “One word. Yes or no. Try again, grasshopper.”

Frowning, Azusa mimicked Ritsu’s crossed arms. _I should have thrown that list away as soon as I read that. Fine then, senpai. I won’t lose this easily. You’ll have to try harder than this to deter me. _“No,” she answered, as firmly as she could. “Now, if you’re done trying to embarrass me, I’d like to go have lunch.”

Ritsu mercifully retreated, allowing Azusa to stumble backwards a step, but she didn’t abandon the high ground. “We’re not done, but that’s a good start,” she mused, a hand finding her chin. “Look, you’re a smart girl, so I’m sure you’ve figured out where I’m going with this by now, even if you won’t admit it. You know Yui didn’t call you just for lunch.”

To be brutally honest would be to admit that Azusa hadn’t been thinking about the circumstances surrounding Yui’s invitation much at all. It was simply an event to look forward to in between her more arduous classes. Everything that didn’t involve her maintaining the picture she had in her mind of the Light Music Club had been reduced to white noise in her mind for the last 20 hours, even the Light Music Club. Pausing to consider it now, it was strange that Yui would invite her to something like this out of the blue. They’d hung out as a band on more than a few occasions, but Yui rarely requested one on one time to hang out with just her when she didn’t need help practicing her instrument. “I suppose the circumstances are dubious, if you’re of that mind,” Azusa posited neutrally. “But this is Yui-senpai. Her idea of romance starts and stops at hugging. There’s no way she’d suddenly turn heel now, for no reason.”

Now allowing her frustrated hand to tip somewhat, Ritsu pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re denser than I thought if you haven’t noticed, and I know you’ve noticed, so don’t lie to me, Nakano. Yui and the others aren’t the only ones acting differently.”

“Of course they aren’t. We’re all still in this slump. That’s why we have to work even harder to find a way out of it,” Azusa reasoned, enjoying the certainty that filled her tone.

“Sure, but when even you fail to play Fuwa Fuwa Time properly, I can’t help but think that you’re all overthinking this,” Ritsu waved away. “Look, whether you like it or not, Yui’s libido is going to screw our band over if you meet with her now and turn her down. We would have been fine if Mugi left everything alone, but as things are, if Yui gets depressed, we’re done for. Game over.” The drummer made a cutting motion over her neck with her finger.

_Did I play poorly yesterday? _Azusa wondered, Ritsu’s criticism of her performance blotting out everything else she had said. _Shit. I’m losing my sense of understanding on the situation again. I have to regain control. Whatever’s happening, if I don’t understand the situation, I’m as good as useless to them. The best way to do that is to confront Yui-senpai about it. She’s too simple to lie about romance, so I just need to show Ritsu-senpai that she’s wrong. Once she’s clear on our roles, I can be too. _

“If Yui-senpai is truly at that point, as you say, then I’ll just have to clear up the misunderstanding myself. It’s my own fault for letting her overbearing affections run on for this long, anyways, and I’m not going to pretend everything will go back to normal if I just sit on my hands and wait for it anymore. I’ll clear up this misunderstanding myself. Honestly, this could work out better for both of us, in the long run I mean. It could be the push Yui-senpai needs to act a little more mature and take practices seriously…” Azusa’s speech on developing the ideal Yui was interrupted by the visibly cringing Ritsu. “What? Too harsh? How am I supposed to approach a situation like this? You’re the one who said not to run away, didn’t you? I’m sure the truth will clear everything up.”

Ritsu scratched the back of her head, having no more experience with love than Azusa in this regard. “No, it’s not too harsh. Wait, yes. No, no. I don’t know, maybe? Look, if you really want my two cents, the truth is overhyped. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you’re going to save Yui’s soul by unburdening your own. I’m not guessing, either. Yui’s going to pull the trigger today. When I said don’t run, I was referring to your response to me, not her. You’re a fool if you think Yui isn’t going to be devastated when she hears the truth. Wouldn’t it be better to put this off until we can find a way to let her down gently?”

Azusa leaned against the wall, feeling Ritsu’s damning words sink in. _If she’s right, then what do I do? Yui-senpai is terrible at learning, taking criticism, rejection, anything negative in general. Absolutely terrible. How am I supposed to tell someone like that that I don’t like her that way with a straight face? Show her my list? She’ll probably call that cute. _The word floated aimlessly around Azusa, so oft repeated that she wouldn’t be surprised if it had lost all meaning at some point to her. _Cute… I think Yui-senpai is cute, and I can’t explain why. I can’t explain how I really feel to her if I can’t explain how I really feel to me.__ Maybe I’ll save everyone some trouble if I just say yes. But that’s just pushing the problem aside. Besides, I can’t love Yui-senpai as anything more than a friend. The band and the future have to come first. Yes, if I put it in terms of acting for the good of the band, surely she’ll be able to understand that! She enjoys the light just as much as I do, I know it. _“I won’t run from this,” Azusa decided. “This has been a long time coming. I’ll set Yui-senpai straight, once and for all, without hurting her feelings too much. Trust me.”

The confidence behind Azusa’s claim reassured Ritsu slightly, but the suspicion in her posture didn’t falter. “That’s great and all, but how? Wouldn’t it be better just to avoid having to hurt Yui and risk the band’s life altogether?”

“That won’t solve anything,” Azusa answered with a frown. “We’re going to see each other after school every day anyways. If we can’t stop her, it’s better than she gets this out in private between us instead of announcing that she’s going to confess to everyone.”

The drummer looked away to hide the guilt in her expression, her face telling Azusa that that was exactly what Yui had done this morning. _That idiot. This is the person I’m trusting not to tell everyone I cried like a baby in front of her two days ago. Forget waiting, this has to be settled now, with no room for uncertainty. That’s what’s been letting this charade exist for this long anyways. _“I’ve heard enough,” she told Ritsu. “Thank you for informing me of Yui-senpai’s intentions. I’ll handle things from here.”

There was more Ritsu obviously wanted to say, but the look in Azusa’s eyes prevented her from voicing anything to further the conversation. Outside of both girls’ awareness, Azusa had moved to stand on the same step as Ritsu as they spoke. The drummer chose to clap a hand on her kouhai’s shoulder instead. “Alright then, I’m counting on you, kid. Our band is riding on this going right, so don’t let us down. Oh, tell Yui I’ll buy ice cream for everyone or something once this is all over. That might cheer her up a bit.”

“Ice cream?!” came an excited gasp from the top of the stairs

Both girls risked whiplash snapping their heads upwards, faces paling a little as the subject of their conversation practically dove down the stairs to wrap Ritsu in a hug. “You brought me ice cream, Ricchan? Did you feel bad about this morning? Where is it, where is it? You didn’t put it in your bag, did you? It’ll melt!”

“No, you moron, there is no ice cream,” Ritsu harshly reprimanded, yanking the guitarist off of her. “Were you listening to us the whole time?”

“Nope!” Yui exclaimed, ignoring Azusa and Ritsu’s sighs of relief. “I was just headed out to look for you two so everyone could be here. Come on, let’s go eat!”

“Everyone?” Azusa echoed, sharing a confused glance with Ritsu. “And wait, what’s this about cancelling practice?”

Yui nodded over Azusa’s second question, dragging her friends up the stairs by their wrists. “Yeah, lunch is more fun with friends, ne? I brought a bunch of food that Ui made, to, so make sure you eat lots!”

Nothing Yui was saying matched the ideas Ritsu’s words had put in Azusa’s head. First of all, Yui didn’t appear to have any intention of eating alone with her, which Azusa found rather rude on Yui’s part for not telling her this was going to be a group activity. Second, based on some very educational manga Jun had lent her, people about to confess were usually far more nervous that Yui currently was. Even her aloof persona of yesterday was closer to a nervous lovebird than the bubbly normalcy that was currently shoving open the clubroom door. Ritsu was all but useless, just as lost as Azusa was in the game Yui was playing with her friends.

Entering the clubroom, the three were met with their remaining two band members in their seats, one wearing a strained smile while the other was positively giddy. Yui’s previous comment stuck in Azusa’s mind, preventing her from wondering about anything else as she made her way to the table. _We aren’t practicing today. __Why wouldn’t they tell me something like that? Do they all know? _Ui and Jun were one thing, but the mere idea that her senpais would keep something like that from her damaged a very weak point in her mental defenses.

“Hello, Azusa-chan,” Mio greeted, interrupting Azusa’s thoughts as she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I made tea for you!” Tsumugi declared like a child showing her mother macaroni art.

There was too much going on for Azusa to quickly process, and the call of her stomach refused to be denied any longer. _They must have a reason. They’re here for a reason. I’m here for a reason too, and that’s lunch. I’ll get the truth out of them after lunch. _

Nodding thankfully to Tsumugi, Azusa took her seat and withdrew her self-made lunch. True to her word, Yui had brought copious amounts of leftovers from the party. By Azusa’s memory, Ui had brought nothing of the sort for her lunch, but she knew better than to waste time wondering if Ui was prioritizing her sister over herself. The atmosphere had changed little over the past 24 hours, but Azusa barely noticed, too engrossed with eating to enjoy the company of her silent friends. Ritsu passed the time glaring at the ignorant Tsumugi and Yui while Mio maintained direct eye contact with her food. Most of the lunch period was gone by the time someone spoke. “Um, are you okay?” Ritsu asked as Azusa was reaching for another sandwich. “Like, are you eating enough at home?”

Suddenly remembering her humility, Azusa placed the sandwich back in the center. “Sorry. I missed dinner the other night.”

“No need to apologize,” Mio reassured, kicking at Ritsu under the table. “You’re not the one with something to be sorry for.”

Yui rose from her chair before Ritsu could mount her own defense. Though she had participated in the group’s silence, the guitarist had barely been able to contain herself for most of their meal, bouncing up and down in her chair and humming to herself. “Lunch was fun! Ne, Azu-nyan, do you mind if we talk about something important for a minute?”

Incredulous looks were rapidly exchanged around the table. _Don’t tell me she’s going to confess right now, in front of everyone, after asking permission of all things. That’s so… unromantic. Wait, that’s not the problem here! I have to do something! _“Sure, what’s up?” _What the hell are you saying?! Why would you just give her permission to speak?! How stupid are you?!_

Emboldened, Yui puffed out her chest. “Alright! Azu-nyan, I-“

“Hold on, Yui,” Ritsu interrupted, crossing her legs and glowering at the scene in front of her. “If you’re going to say what we’re all assuming you’re gonna say, you should do it without the rest of us here. This is between you and Nakano, correct?”

Azusa found herself subconsciously nodding along with Ritsu, in direct opposition to Yui’s shaking of her head. “But this affects everyone. That’s what you’ve all been telling me. Wouldn’t it make more sense for you all to be here?”

“I’m okay with bearing witness to this,” Tsumugi voiced a bit too eagerly. “I can record it too, if you want-“

“No. That’s not okay, Mugi-senpai,” Azusa cut in. “I think that-“

“There’s no reason for us to be here,” Ritsu interrupted, resting her chin in her hands. “You can’t deny that to my face seriously. Yui, I would rather you not do this at all, but if you’re gonna do it, you need to do it alone with Nakano. It’s polite, if nothing else.”

Yui tilted her head, an unsure finger touching her lips. “But you don’t care about being polite, Ricchan. Besides, everyone knows I’m just telling Azu-nyan how I feel. What’s the big deal?”

Though she knew it was coming, Azusa still felt her face go beet red at Yui’s statement. Yui’s lack of tact had found a way to exploit her embarrassment when she wasn’t fully prepared. _What am I doing? I shouldn’t be getting so worked up. I have to remain calm, or I’ll give everyone the wrong idea about me again, and then I’ll never be able to save the band. _Ritsu took full advantage of Azusa’s state of disarray. “See, that’s why this is supposed to be a private thing. You’re embarrassing Nakano by bringing it up in front of everyone. Think about how she feels about this. This isn’t how things are supposed to go. I know I’ve read more manga on this than you have.”

“How are they supposed to go then?” Tsumugi challenged, her expression unreadable. “If this is wrong, what’s the right way to handle things, Ricchan?”

Ritsu stuttered in the timing on her retort, revealing her lack of personal experience. “Well, you see, the thing about that is… tag out! Mio, go!” the drummer ordered, pointing at her childhood friend.

“Why are you asking me like I’d know?” Mio snapped. “The only person who doesn’t seem to know what they’re doing is you.”

The accusation was probably the worst thing Mio could have said to Ritsu. Azusa felt herself return to a normal color as all the red in the room coalesced around Ritsu in an aura of burning rage. “Is that right, Mio? You’re just saying that because you let Mugi think for you, just like Yui. She’s the reason I’m stuck here fighting to keep us together for one damn day without the world exploding. You probably begged Yui to drag us all here, didn’t you, Mugi? I go to the trouble of cancelling practice precisely to prevent this from happening, and here we all are anyways. What’s it going to take for you to realize that you’re screwing us over?”

Azusa rose from her own chair, Ritsu’s hostility invoking a defensive reaction she didn’t know she had in herself. “Ritsu-senpai, why are you so mad at Mugi-senpai? Sure, she’s been a bit pushy, but-“

“But nothing, kid,” Ritsu cut off, silencing her kouhai with a glare. “Listen up, Mugi. If you actually give a shit about our band, you’ll leave with me and Mio right now. If you really trust your bandmates, you don’t need to be here for this, do you?”

Huffing at being shut down, Azusa sank into her seat, muttering about how Ritsu was a terrible club president. Tsumugi let out a small puzzled frown. “Ricchan, I wish you wouldn’t continue to accuse me of manipulating things in the manner you’re describing. I’m here because I want to see my friends succeed.” The heiress rose from her seat, her kindly nature that normally offset the pompous importance her actions implied absent. “You’re being stubborn. We can all be happy if you just do what your heart is telling you to do, Ricchan.”

“The ends we want don’t justify your means,” Ritsu countered. “We shouldn’t be here and you know it, and yet you’re arguing that we should barge in on their private moment, which shouldn’t even be happening and wouldn’t happen if it weren’t for you. If you can’t see anything wrong with that, then I taught you to lie too well, because you’re fooling yourself.”

In an attempt at diplomacy, Yui clenched her hands into fists and bobbed up and down from her standing position by her chair. “Why are you all arguing? Ricchan, I told you that this was my plan, didn’t I? Mugi-chan didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Like hell she didn’t,” Ritsu dismissed with a wave. “Even you can’t argue that Mugi was the one who started this whole damn thing. We could have kept going just fine without her interfering.”

Azusa went from feeling like she had just missed a bus to feeling like the bus had left two hours ago for a completely different destination. Events she had no prior knowledge of were being addressed like they were old news, and Yui’s supposed confession was going completely unaddressed. She couldn’t simply ask for an explanation though, not when everyone was so fired up. Only Mio appeared to be maintaining her composure, even sipping tea as she swept her gaze over her standing friends. When Azusa made eye contact with her, she shrugged ambiguously. Sensing a chance to seize the moment that had been vanishing from her vision ever since sitting down, Azusa rejoined the standing group. “Yui-senpai’s right,” she told Ritsu, having a hard time believing it herself. “No matter who did what, we’re here. This isn’t the HTT, or the Light Music Club that I know. I look up to you all. I know we’re not the best individually, and you’re all really lazy, but the music we make together is so good because of who we are. I get why you think something’s wrong, Ritsu-senpai. I haven’t felt right since the festival, and I don’t think any of us have. That’s why I think we need to sit down together and discuss our futures like adults instead of dodging the issue. I may not know exactly what’s been going on with you all, or how you’ve been dealing with graduation, but I still want to be able to help keep HTT together if I can. I want to believe in you all the way Yui-senpai does, and I think we could be a really good band if we just put a little more effort into it. My point, I guess, is that we’re stronger together, so let’s not argue anymore, okay?” Her words, half rehearsed and half completely improvised, tumbled out as Azusa pleaded for her senpais to understand her point of view.

“Azusa…” Yui whispered, her eyes shining as she stared at her kouhai.

Feeling another blush coming on, Azusa turned her attention to Mio, who had been nodding along with Azusa’s words. “That sounds about right,” she decided. “Conflict is never good.”

“Never?” Ritsu exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Why aren’t you more upset about what’s going on? I’d be livid if I noticed I was shooting myself in the foot the way you are, Mio. Our band is dying and you’re sipping tea. In fact, I’m more upset that you’re not more upset about this!” The drummer slammed her hand on the table, jostling the teacups slightly.

Mio became the last band member to rise, leaving all of the seats at the table empty. The dangerous queen within Mio Ritsu loved to tease proceeded to remind the drummer how she earned that title with a glare. “Oh yeah? You’re in the right, are you? Genius Ritsu-sama, always in the right, always one step ahead of everyone, is that how you think of yourself?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m an idiot!” Ritsu proudly declared. “I’m an idiot who cares too much to let my friends make mistakes like this. I’m done arguing about right and wrong. Mugi, you’re coming with Mio and me. Let’s go.” Ritsu stalked over to Mugi and took her hand forcefully, making to exit the clubroom with the heiress in tow.

Unwilling to play ball, Tsumugi gently severed her connection with Ritsu, her superior strength besting Ritsu’s stubbornness. “Ricchan, please stop running. You care about us, I know it, and we care about you. This isn’t the way to handle things. You care about Mio-chan, do you not?”

Invoking Mio’s name was enough to cause Ritsu to tense up. “She has nothing to do with what I’m doing. This is about all of you learning how to move on. You’ll ruin the memory of the last three years if you don’t learn when to back the hell off and let life happen naturally.”

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Tsumugi wondered idly, preventing Mio from asking a similar question. She raised a finger to her chin, a play at Yui’s earlier disgruntled expression playing around her features. “What happened to our goals, our dreams, Ricchan? Why would you not even try to do something when you could?”

“I know better,” was all Ritsu responded with, though she was clearly running out of steam, her argument with Mio and the impassioned pleas of her friends having drained much of her will to continue the discussion.

For a moment, it truly appeared as if Ritsu had given up on arguing and the table could calm down in time for the lunch period to end. Azusa could feel her knees beginning to betray her weight, the stress of the moment taking its toll on her. As Ritsu turned to make for the exit, however, Tsumugi took back the hand she had forsaken seconds ago. The heiress had been behaving strangely all period, but it was as Ritsu winced over the strength Tsumugi employed to lock the drummer in place that Azusa saw completely through the thin smile the heiress wore. Her eyes weren’t empty, rather they were more active than ever, absorbing every piece of information they could to be prepared to effectively handle every situation. It was the visage of a killer, a hardened assassin that had seen every contingency in a plan from the moment a mark was set. There could no longer be any mistake in Azusa’s mind: Tsumugi was royally pissed. “No, you don’t, Ricchan, I assure you. Your cause isn’t noble. You’re just running from the fact that you don’t have the guts to tell Mio-chan how you really feel.”

Ritsu’s breath caught in her throat, an action she quickly made to hide as she squirmed uselessly against her friend’s grip. “Shut up, Mugi. Don’t kid around right now. I’m not in the mood. Let me go, will you?!”

“Mugi-chan…” Yui whispered, though the heiress paid the others no mind.

Tsumugi’s grip must have tightened by the slowly intensifying struggles of Ritsu. “I don’t kid when it comes to my family, Ricchan. You and the others are more important to me than anything else right now. Ah, but this is just some game to you, isn’t it? My my my. Our happiness is just some arbitrary currency for you to play with, is that it? I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I tried so hard to find another way to do this that didn’t risk everything I care about.” Regret danced around Tsumugi’s features, leaving Ritsu in a paralyzed state as she observed the change in the heiress’ mood. “But perhaps I haven’t truly gone all in, as they say. That is not a mistake I will make again. We have to change to survive. Mio-chan, Ricchan has romantic feelings for you. She has since middle school and has told me so herself. I believe you don’t want to agree to our plan to attend college together because you don’t want to even try to find out if she feels the same way. If you stick around like this, Mio’s sure to find someone special for her, and you don’t want to be around to see it. Tell me I’m wrong, Ricchan. Tell me if you’re holding back for some other reason, so we can help you. I can help you, Ricchan.”

At Tsumugi’s revelation, Yui gasped inappropriately. Though she was entirely focused on the conversation, an instinctual part of Azusa managed to smack Yui on the head for her behavior. On the surface level, she was completely flabbergasted. _Ritsu-senpai likes Mio-senpai like that? I mean, they’re close, but I never thought, or even suspected… _Azusa’s thoughts were blown away by Ritsu’s cry of rage. “Stop trying to help us!” Ritsu spat, her anger spiking to Tsumugi’s levels. “That was in the past. I don’t feel that way anymore. You’re not thinking rationally, Mugi. Everything you’re trying to do to help is just making things worse. Let me go already!”

“No!” Tsumugi shouted back, her cold demeanor warmed though contact with the hotheaded drummer. “I won’t let you go until you tell me why you insist on pushing us away from you! If what I’m doing is wrong, then tell me what to do, Ricchan!”

Though their interaction, the three spectators were paralyzed, all finding themselves unable to move to diffuse the situation for one reason or another. Mio’s mind had left the conversation when Tsumugi had confessed on Ritsu’s behalf, Yui was still whispering the names of her bandmates to herself, and Azusa was trying to figure out how Yui wanting to confess to her had led to a fight and a completely different, unwilling confession, assuming Tsumugi was being honest. Azusa’s thoughts attempted to coerce her to take action, to right the wrongs surrounding her and be the savior to the Light Music Club her daydreams had revolved around for the past 24 hours, but she remained rooted in one spot. For all her grandstanding, she found herself right back where she started, a frozen outsider looking in on a world she only knew through looking into the keyhole of a locked door. The sobering realization came at the same time as Ritsu’s harshest command yet. “Let me go, Mugi.”

Tears had begun to roll down Tsumugi’s cheeks, the heiress persona melting away as Ritsu absorbed the silent aggression that had been directed at her and used it for herself. “No. I know that’s not what you want, Ricchan. Please don’t go, Ricchan. I don’t want you to go. I’ll apologize all you want later, but please don’t go.”

Ritsu only raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s okay to spill personal secrets then ask for favors, huh? Screw off, Mugi. I’m done with this. Practices and tea can come back when you come to your damn senses and admit that you’re completely out of line. If you won’t let me go, I’ll see myself out.” With that, Ritsu gave her arm a sudden yank while shoving Tsumugi with her free hand, releasing her from the heiress’ grip.

Unprepared to deal with being shoved, Tsumugi stumbled backwards, hands flailing for a purchase to prevent her from falling. The one her right hand found was tragically frail. The crunching of shattering porcelain was the only sound the clubroom entertained as Tsumugi brought her hand down hard on her own teacup. Though the purchase was initially unsafe, Tsumugi’s hand forged all the way through the tea receptacle, mercifully allowing her to steady herself as her hand crushed bits of teacup into the table. A half-drank cup of tea splattered across the table, though most of the damage remained covered by Tsumugi’s palm. Ritsu rubbed her wrist gingerly, looking on with the others as Tsumugi stared at her offending hand like it was pressing down the trigger for a bomb. Slowly and methodically, she raised the hand from its fallen foe, taking bits of teacup with it and revealing several droplets of red liquid mixed with the remnants of tea. Mio let out an eep and turned away, focusing her gaze entirely on Ton. Azusa found herself averting her eyes as well, and even Ritsu winced as Tsumugi took in the damage she had inflicted with her choice of landing. Despite being injured, Tsumugi said nothing, not even a wince of pain as she stared at her hand, her tears continuing to spill without restraint. Only when the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period did somebody react. “Mugi-chan! Are you alright? Hold still, I can help!” Yui ordered, rushing to her friend’s side to remove any pieces of porcelain stuck to her hand.

How Yui wasn’t bothered by the bleeding lacerations on Tsumugi’s hand was a mystery Azusa might have been curious enough to solve under less strenuous circumstances. As it stood, she swallowed her instinctual urge to follow Mio’s gaze and moved silently to help her friend. Ritsu, still holding her wrist, took a half step towards her friends before turning away abruptly. “I’ll go get the nurse,” she told the band. “Don’t let Mio pass out before I get back.” Though she sounded like she wanted to say more, the drummer ran away from the problem before she gave herself the chance to do so.

For all her good intentions with moving to help, the most Azusa found herself able to do was clean up the shattered teacup and puddle of liquid that had formed around it while Yui tended to her patient. Trying not to think about what she was touching as she fetched a towel, Azusa’s attention was drawn in by the injured party’s voice. “I’m sorry, Ricchan,” Tsumugi apologized to the open door, all of her authority having abandoned her. “I messed up. I didn’t realize how strong you were.”

Yui finished tying a spare handkerchief Azusa had retrieved for her around Tsumugi’s palm, having removed all the noticeable chunks of teacup from it. “Relax, Mugi-chan,” Yui reassured calmly. “Focus on your hand. Can you move it? Don’t push yourself.”

“Push… I pushed her too hard,” Tsumugi whimpered, the effects of Ritsu’s shove catching up to her as she tried to flex her fingers. “I just want us to be happy. I know this is what we want. What am I doing wrong this time?”

“Don’t worry about that, Mugi-senpai,” Azusa advised as she wiped the table down. “Listen to Yui-senpai for now. Mio-senpai, are you okay?”

Mio was currently leaning against the wall, right next to Ton’s tank. The bassist was clutching her chest in fear, shivering at the perfectly normal room temperature. “I’m okay. I’m doing great. It’s just a little blood. I’m an adult. I’m fine,” she repeated several times to herself.

Seeing no way to cajole Mio into being useful, Azusa refocused on Tsumugi as Yui carefully had the heiress move her fingers around. “It hurts, but it’s not that bad. I think I was fortunate,” Tsumugi deduced, forming her hand into a fist before wincing and unclenching it.

With the immediate crisis apparently quelled for the moment, Azusa turned her attention to the greatest anomaly in the room. “How’d you learn to do that?” she asked Yui, motioning towards the handkerchief.

Yui merely shrugged, still engrossed by Tsumugi’s condition. “Ui. I get hurt a lot, so she taught me basic first aid in case I got hurt while she wasn’t around. It’s pretty handy, ne? Try not to move it anymore, Mugi-chan.”

Relieved that Yui seemed to know what she was doing, Azusa chastised her weak stomach and forced herself to look at her senior. Now sitting in her chair once more, Tsumugi appeared to be more lost in thought than in distress. Once she had finished her makeshift gauze job, Yui had set about clearing off the table, unwilling to allow her hands to fall idle. It startled Azusa how on top of things the airhead was, and she was compelled to continue to assist her friend. With some fresh tablecloths and a broom, all evidence of a broken teacup was removed, and Mio had been relocated to the couch, where she wouldn’t have to look at Tsumugi’s injured hand. Running out of things to do, Yui settled for sitting next to Tsumugi and comforting her gently as her tears threatened to continue. Mio hadn’t done much of anything since her relocation, but she appeared more composed now that there was no more blood in her vision. If Azusa ignored Tsumugi’s crying, she could almost pretend the last five minutes hadn’t happened. _It wouldn’t be much different than what we’ve all been doing. That would be wonderful. Even if it’s a lie, if it makes me happy, what’s the harm in it? Is that what Ritsu-senpai is thinking? Even if it is, I can’t think like that. Our future is too important to pretend it doesn’t exist. We can’t go back anymore. _

“Mugi-chan…” Mio asked cautiously, twirling around a strand of hair in her fingers while watching the open door warily. “Are you alright?”

Tsumugi unwisely flexed her hand, hiding a grimace expertly. “Yes, I’ll be fine, Mio-chan. Do you need something? I can make more tea, though it might take a minute.”

Azusa almost gaped rudely, aghast at Tsumugi’s lack of self-preservation instincts. “No no, please rest until the nurse gets here. I’m sure we’ll be excused for being late,” Mio reassured the zero people in the room who were thinking about that. “I… well… listen, is what you said about Ritsu true? I’ve known her since we were children, and I never so much as thought she felt that way. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

That particular tidbit of information felt unimportant to Azusa amidst the commotion that was happening, but she wasn’t technically one of the involved parties. Reflecting on Ritsu’s actions, her advice if Tsumugi was being honest made more sense, though cancelling practices felt a bit like an overreaction to the kouhai. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tsumugi correctly admitted. “If you want to talk about it, you should talk to Ricchan. I went too far, Mio-chan. I keep going too far, but if I don’t go far enough, then-“

Tsumugi cut herself off, only to continue again when nobody filled in the gap for her. “I-in any case, don’t worry about it! I’ll apologize to Ricchan and have her bring practices back. You can talk to her then, ne?”

Mio folded her arms. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just ignore, Mugi-chan. If this is how Ritsu feels then I need to… I need to… I don’t know.”

Dangerous parallels were being drawn in Azusa’s mind between herself and Mio. Normally she’d be happy to be compared to the most competent senior of the band, but the realm of romantic entanglements was a different beast entirely, one all five girls were supposedly on a level playing field experience wise. Yui gave her friend a worried glance but didn’t speak up. Since Ton didn’t appear willing to jump to Tsumugi’s defense, Azusa took it upon herself to take control. “Can’t this wait, Mio-senpai? Mugi-senpai is hurt. There’s plenty of time to get the truth after the nurse looks and Mugi-senpai’s hand.”

“It feels like all we do is waste time in this club,” Mio retorted, suddenly cynical. “Now there’s no time left, and we’re busy bickering when there’s massive problems going unaddressed. Ritsu’s acting more and more like a baka Ritsu every day, and I can’t do anything about graduation. We can wait as long as we want, it’s not going to make you graduate this year.”

Azusa’s eyes found the floor. “Don’t remind me,” she responded bitterly. “We’ll figure something out, we just need time. I’m sure we can think of something if we really put our heads together on it, even if it’s not what we have right now.”

Mio looked away. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry.” Her stormy grey eyes were brewing a veritable hurricane, fierce winds howling out ballads of frustration that obliterated Azusa’s chances at continuing a conversation. The bassist rose from the couch. “I think I’m going to head back to class to let Sawa-chan know what’s going on. Mugi-chan, Yui-chan, Azusa-chan, call me if there’s anything you need me for. I’ll, um, see you in class.” With a halfhearted wave, Mio followed the drummer out the still open door.

With Mio gone, Tsumugi hung her head once more, resting it in her good hand. Azusa felt like joining her senpai in wallowing, not for any particular reason, rather that she felt utterly defeated without being given the chance to throw a single punch. _Everything spiraled so quickly, and I’m just sitting here, as if it’s still teatime. Life is happening, and I’m watching it like a moron._ “Where did I go wrong?” Tsumugi asked nobody, echoing Azusa’s thoughts. “I’m sorry to you too, Yui-chan, Azusa-chan. This was supposed to be your special moment. I ruined it.”

Remembering why she had supposedly been summoned in the first place only served to add another layer of frustration and confusion that was Azusa’s afternoon. Before she could disagree with Tsumugi’s warped version of reality, Yui responded, placing a comforting arm around the keyboardist. “It’s okay, Mugi-chan. I’m not mad at you. You’re not mad, right Azu-nyan?”

In truth, Azusa was mad, but she held back from directing her anger recklessly towards Tsumugi. _What am I supposed to say to that? “Oh, don’t worry, Yui-senpai, it’s perfectly fine that our closest friends came this close to slugging each other. I’ll still make sure to crush your hopes and dreams later, don’t you worry!” But I can’t just get mad right now. That’s how I went wrong before. But how can I not be mad right now?_

Yui’s expectant look slowly morphed into a frown when Azusa only stared at Yui without responding. Before the air in the room could grow any more awkward, two new people burst through the open door, not making nearly as much impact as they could have because of it. “Show me the wound,” came Ui’s dominating voice as she practically sprinted over to Tsumugi, Jun choosing to linger at the doorway instead of being useful.

“Ui-chan? Jun-chan? Why are you here?” Azusa questioned, hoping they weren’t ditching class for her sake and grateful for the interruption at the same time.

“You’re late, so we went to get you,” Jun explained, not bothering to disguise her irritation. “Then Mio-senpai told us Mugi-senpai was hurt on the way here, so Ui came running, a bit too fast for my liking.”

Ignoring the last comment, Azusa turned her attention to Ui, who was inspecting Yui’s handiwork. “Good job, Onee-chan. I’m glad you’ve been paying attention to my lectures. Mugi-senpai, this will probably hold, but we need to get you to the nurse before the blood soaks through the handkerchief. If you can walk, you should come with me.”

“Ricchan already went to get the nurse,” Tsumugi pointed out indecisively. “Shouldn’t we wait for her to get back?”

“We’ll meet her halfway,” Ui decided, forcefully pulling the blonde up by her good hand, out of her sister’s grasp. Any fatigue she had demonstrated earlier was washed away by the urgency of the situation. “I’ll take Mugi-senpai to the nurse. You three should get back to class. Especially you, Onee-chan.” With that, Ui led the sniffling heiress out of the room, leaving it far emptier than Azusa was prepared for it to be.

Jun took in the sight of the clubroom from her high horse at the entrance. Though Yui and Azusa had more or less cleaned it, there was no hiding the tense atmosphere left behind by the band’s argument, and Jun picked up on it instantly. Yui shifted around on the couch, feeling as uncomfortable as Azusa was under Jun’s judging gaze. “So, finally had a fight, huh? You know, there’s a reason clubs get rid of their seniors after the cultural festival and not later. It’s to prevent things like this happening.” Jun nodded to Azusa. “You come to your senses yet?”

“There’s nothing wrong with-“ Yui started to say before Jun held up a hand to cut her off.

“I’m not talking to you, moron,” Jun harshly shut down. “I’m talking to my friend. What happened?”

Azusa found herself moving to stand behind Yui’s position on the couch. “First of all, don’t talk to my senpai like that, not when she hasn’t done anything to deserve it. Second, it was just a disagreement, and Mugi-senpai happened to fall and hurt herself. Don’t go jumping to conclusions, Jun-chan.”

Jun tsked, leaning against the doorframe. “So you haven’t gotten over it. Doesn’t look like a simple disagreement from where I’m standing. Looks like a club that doesn’t understand when it’s time to disband. ” The bassist pointed a finger at Azusa. “How can you not see that you’re looking up to a bunch of lazy morons who are just sticking around the club so they have an excuse to sip tea and screw around every day?”

“That’s what HTT is supposed to be!” Yui piped up, bobbing up and down on the couch. “I mean, sure, we make mistakes, but everyone does! I make a ton of mistakes every day! Why should we have to disband if we don’t want to?”

A scoff accompanied Jun leaning against the door with folded arms. “You should disband because trying to force things at this point is making my friend miserable, and by extension making me miserable. If you’d stop clinging to your glory days like high school burnouts, you’d notice that Azusa has been suffering while you idiots play games trying to see who can screw her over the hardest. ‘Oh, Azusa, we’ll stay together forever! We’ll always be a band together, even after we graduate and leave you behind!’ Bullshit. And then you have to nerve to try and tell someone who obviously has no feelings romantically for you that you’re into her. You’re as blind to the truth as you are stupid.”

“Jun-chan, enough!” Azusa cut in over Yui’s gaping mouth. “There’s been enough fighting today!”

Azusa turned to Yui, who was apparently stunned out of a reaction. “Azu-nyan has been suffering?” Yui asked Jun quietly, her mind even less present than normal.

Before Jun could continue, Azusa stepped forward to stand between Yui and Jun. “Look, Jun-chan. I think I’ve given you the wrong idea about where I’m at with the Light Music Club. Nothing happened between me and Yui-senpai. If things were as you say, I’d have quit a long time ago. Please, stop antagonizing my senpais. What’s happening isn’t their fault.”

Startled by Azusa’s choice in argument, Jun nearly slipped from her lean against the door before composing herself. “That’s how it is, huh? Well, then there must be no problems!” The frizzy-haired bassist strode forward and snatched Azusa snugly by the arm. “Come on then, Azu-nyan. Let’s get you back to class. The teacher is waiting on us.”

Azusa cast a glance back towards her senpai as she was dragged from the classroom. Yui’s eyes, however, were entirely on Jun and the close physical contact she was making with Azusa. The guitarist stifled a gasp as she caught herself suspecting her senpai of jealousy. _I suppose that would make sense, but still, it’s a bit strange to believe. Wait, there’s other things I should be focusing on right now. _“Yui-senpai, text me when you know that Mugi-senpai’s okay, alright?” she asked over her shoulder.

Yui nodded slightly. “I will. Ne, Azu-nyan, do you-“ The door was slammed shut by Jun before Yui could finish her sentence.

Jun had dragged Azusa halfway down the stairs before Azusa managed to break free. “Jun-chan, what the hell? Yui-senpai was in the middle of saying something.”

“That’s a weird way to say thank you for preventing my senpai from confessing to me,” Jun snarked. “You’re telling me you want to break that idiot’s heart? You’re colder than I gave you credit for.”

Azusa didn’t immediately reply. She certainly didn’t want to make things worse by having to turn down Yui, but pretending the reason she had been summoned in the first place didn’t exist felt just as wrong. _There is no winning move. No matter what I do, someone’s going to get hurt, and we’ll get nothing out of it. _Fed up with waiting, Jun sighed. “Alright. I’ve been more than patient with you, Azusa. I get it, life’s hard right now, fine. But there’s only so much of depressing Azusa I can take before I reach my limit. Either fix your problems with this club or cut yourself off from them already. I’m not going to put up with this shit for another three months.” Azusa felt like she was hearing a strange echo of HTT’s drummer as Jun turned her back on her. “I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t even have the balls to admit to what she wants. I’ll see you around, Azusa.” Jun took off down the stairs before Azusa could stop her.

Now that she was finally alone, Azusa realized that she could probably cry if she wanted to. Thinking of an excuse for her teacher wouldn’t exactly be difficult, and she could probably get Ui to back her up if nothing else. After the lunch she just had, she knew she felt like crying. As she tried to muster up the wherewithal to do so, however, nothing came to her. The same creeping feeling of emptiness from yesterday was encroaching on her, a marked lack of emotion that signified the sort of apathy that Azusa despised. Becoming desperate to put her mind elsewhere until she was ready to sort things out properly, Azusa took off towards the classroom with dry eyes. There was no shame in running, so long as she eventually came back.

* * *

**November 15th, 5:14 PM **

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Azusa admitted, swallowing her pride. “I know this is a few days late, and it’s not really necessary, but I might as well start somewhere, so I’m sorry.” There was no response.

The young guitarist heaved a sigh, glancing around at the sparsely populated front of the school. Fortunately for her, nobody seemed to be paying her any mind. “Things have been weird lately, and I feel bad about how I’ve been handling things. I guess it hadn’t really occurred to me that my senpais wouldn’t know what they’re doing either. At least, I hope they don’t know what they’re doing, especially Yui-senpai. If they’re serious, I don’t know how we’re going to stay together much longer, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if that happens. There’s nowhere else to go. I guess you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?” Azusa put on a strained smile. “Respond if I’m going crazy.”

The bust of the school’s founder didn’t respond, which saved Azusa’s sanity for the moment. She was fortunate nobody was around this late to see her venting to a bust, though she would have preferred not having the time to visit it at all. With practice cancelled and her parents not due home for hours however, she found herself without any other decent place to collect her thoughts unobstructed by location. The stigma other students had about hanging around a weird bust of some old guy didn’t bother her, and she found it useful in the way a clownfish made use of a sea anemone. Most of her friends knew she liked the bust, but only Ui and Sawako had caught her talking to it. Ui had been very understanding, while Sawako had required several threats of blackmail and more than zero pairs of cat ears to buy her silence. She wasn’t exactly trying to keep her secret, but it was nice to have a place that was basically hers, even if it was in one of the most open areas of the school.

As Azusa leaned against the bust, watching stragglers go home from their clubs against the falling sun, her mind turned from inane apologies to the events earlier in the day. Nothing had gone the way she wanted it to, but that was practically a given once Mio had sent her the text confirming that practice was cancelled for the day. Though she hadn’t heard from Yui since Ui took her home without explanation, Tsumugi was apparently feeling well enough to handle turtle-feeding duties, something Azusa had tried and failed to object to. Ritsu and Jun were nowhere to be found, leaving Azusa alone with a bust. _I bet Yui-senpai would talk to this bust_ _too. She doesn’t have to though, because she has Ui-chan to lean on. Mou, I can’t think like that. It’s not healthy. In any case, I should be focusing on what my next move is. Or I guess my first move. It’s not complicated though. I want to keep the band together, to stay as we are after graduation. The hard part is that doing that is impossible. I guess that would mean it isn’t worth trying, then, but that’s not who I am. If I don’t at least try to get everyone to reconcile, then that’s like admitting that they aren’t worth keeping together. That has to be wrong. Even if it is impossible, I’m not going to accept it. I don’t care that they’re changing, they’re my best friends, just like Ui-chan and Jun-chan. People fight, and they make up, so now we just need to make up. Even though I’m powerless to help them. Even though I’ve been nothing but a burden since the festival. _Reading the darkening nature of her thoughts, Azusa smacked her cheeks with her open palms a few times.

“You founded this school, didn’t you? That must have been hard. Our problems probably seem dumb in comparison to the real world’s problems. Why do I care so much about this, then? My senpais are lazier than anyone I’ve ever met. I can’t even say they know what they’re doing anymore, because we just spent a whole period arguing about it.” Azusa swung her body around to meet the bust’s stony expression head on. “Jun-chan is probably right. Any observer would have told me to let them go by this point. Trying to keep them close obviously hasn’t worked so far. Ui-chan and I alienated most of our class, my senpais don’t know what to do, and my parents are too busy making money they’ll never use to pay attention to life anymore. I just feel… lonely, I guess.” Azusa hated admitting it, but she knew the bust was great at keeping secrets, another reason she was fond of venting to it.

A few students walking by gave her a strange look, but she ignored them. What she couldn’t ignore was the sudden vibration in her jacket pocket.

_Azu-nyan! I’m so sorry about today! The others are really sorry too, I think! I didn’t get the chance to ask them. Mugi-chan is doing okay, by the way. How are you? Are you doing alright? _

_-Yui H._

Azusa closed her phone, not having the nerve to say anything immediately. She almost reached for her phone again immediately, but thought better of it, allowing Yui’s question to hang unanswered for the moment. _This isn’t good. I’m second guessing everything I do now. If I never move, I’ll never be able to help myself, much less the others. And that is what I want, isn’t it? No, I can’t think about that. Azusa Nakano is a member of HTT. As long as that’s still true, I have to do my best for them. One fight, some bad days, they don’t invalidate the last two years, and they don’t mean I should give up on following them. Still, there’s the issue of what Mugi-senpai revealed to Mio-senpai, not to mention Yui-senpai definitely tried to confess to me today._

For a moment, Azusa stopped processing things. In all the excitement of the day, she hadn’t really taken the time to sit down and process that Yui was trying to tell her how she felt, what that meant. “I can’t run from that forever if I want to stay with Yui-senpai and the others,” Azusa confessed. “But I don’t like Yui-senpai like that. She’s my senpai, I can’t. And we’re in high school. If Sawako-sensei has taught me one thing, it’s that high school relationships are a terrible idea. But this damn feeling in my chest, the contradictions in my list, they don’t agree with the logical conclusion I should be coming to. That’s what really makes me crazy. You have to be crazy to even consider liking someone like Yui-senpai.” The confession left Azusa’s mouth, but she didn’t react to her own admittance.

The kouhai set her bags down and sat against the bust, paying the second and third vibrations in her pocket no mind. Reaching into her school bag, she withdrew her graduation letters. In retrospect, she had been foolish to waste her time on such arbitrary articles when graduation was so far away. Additionally, if she truly wanted to continue to work with her senpais, the idea of writing farewell letters was a bit moot. Glancing over them once more, Azusa found holes in her characterizations of her senpais, her letters portraying each member as some sort of saint that could do no wrong. _I really was out of it yesterday, to call Mio-senpai anything resembling brave or Mugi-senpai boisterous. Just because they can shine brightly doesn’t mean they always do. Even on a good day, we sound like a dime a dozen high school band if we’re not performing. Our entire dynamic doesn’t make sense. We shouldn’t be rewarded for all the time we waste away. Hard work is supposed to be the only way to success. Perhaps I’m just paying for all the gifts I’ve been given for free the past two years. Well, fine then. I’ll start over from here. I don’t give up this easily. I’m going to prove that I’m good enough to be a part of something like HTT. They’ll never want to leave me behind when I’m done with them. If I get them all to apply themselves, I can make HTT even better than it was before the festival. I know they’re strong enough to do it._

Rising as soon as she sat, Azusa crushed the four letters in her hands, enjoying the rush of authority that filled her as she did so. She made her way to the nearest trash can inside and disposed of them, returning to her guitar and bag swiftly. “I’m not giving up yet,” Azusa told her friend. “I can beat irrational emotions, graduation, all of it, if I just give it my best effort, and if I have a chance. I just… need to make a plan for how, instead of charging blindly forward. I’ll figure out what’s going on with my senpais and help them fix their problems. I have to have the faith in my senpais that Yui-senpai does. She’ll be able to bring everyone back together if I can get her to focus, and then Jun-chan will get off of their backs.” The tune was familiar, a direct rip-off of previous claims some would say, but Azusa was willing to repeat herself as many times as she needed to until her convictions became the truth. It didn’t hurt to tell someone, either, even if that someone was a representation of a man she’d never met that happened to not be sentient.

Withdrawing her phone once more, Azusa found two new texts from her senpai.

_Ne, Azu-nyan, are you okay? Ui says you’re busy, but I’m worried that she’s covering for the fact that you’re mad at me. Are you mad at me? Azu-nyan, where are you? _

_~Y U I_

Azusa rolled her eyes. Even in text form, Yui was a bit clingy for her liking. The second text gave her pause.

_Azu-nyan, I think Ricchan is planning on cancelling practice until Mugi-chan makes up with her. I still want us to meet up, though. Can we play together after school? You don’t have to if you don’t want to._

_~Y <3 <3_

Seeing directly through Yui’s offer this time, Azusa spent long minutes overthinking her response. Though she knew what she had to do, committing to breaking the heart of one of her closest friends required more willpower than Azusa had available for the day. It was the knowledge that things weren’t going to get better if she failed to respond now that pressed Azusa’s fingers into action, typing her first response to her senpai.

_I’m doing fine, Yui-senpai. I’m not any madder at you than I am at myself and the others. We can play together after school, but it has to be just us. Nobody else. This is between us, and it has nothing to do with the band’s conflict today, got it?_

_Azusa Nakano_

Silence held Azusa in suspense as she awaited Yui’s reply. The sun had begun to dip into the horizon by now, projecting Azusa’s shadow over the bust behind her. When Azusa’s phone did go off, the message was much shorter than she expected.

_You still want things to be normal again, don’t you, Azu-nyan?_

_~yui _

Azusa typed her final response almost as soon as she finished reading Yui’s message. She didn’t know if she had the strength to make it happen, but she did know exactly what the answer to that question was. As she sent her message and slipped her silent phone back into her pocket, she gave the shaded bust one last look before leaving for the solitude of her home. “Watch over me, founder-sama. I’ll show you how strong HTT can really be.”


	16. We were never a normal club

**November 16th, 2nd period Classical Literature**

Rain battered the windows of Sakuragaoka High on an unapologetically clear Wednesday morning. Yui’s eyes were alit with naive wonder from her desk, her gaze transfixed by the phenomenon taking place only a meter or two from her face. She followed the rainbow created by the unnaturally arcing stream with her finger, tracing between the red and orange lines until they faded away into the damp earth, bright colors mixing together and fading into a sullen brown. The sight was calling to her, begging her to abandon her seat and avail for herself a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Any attempt to stand, however, was thwarted, not by the class going on around her, but by her cell phone. The last message received by the device tugged at her conscious, weighing her down and denying her the chance to truly be enraptured by the miracle of nature. Caught between fantasy and reality, Yui balanced her unoccupied hand on her chin, her feet dancing by themselves indecisively under her desk. _I shouldn’t be trying to think too hard about this. It’ll just confuse me. Things might be strange, but it’s all going to work out in the end. As long as I believe in them, it’ll all work itself out. No need to be nervous. _Running the lines through her head was as effective as every previous attempt Yui had tried in the short length of time between when she had woken up that morning and now. _But what did Azu-nyan mean? If she doesn’t want things to go back to normal, doesn’t that mean we’re on the same page? Mou, puzzles are hard. I wish I had Azu-nyan’s help. She’s probably good at puzzles. _Yui’s head was allowed to topple to her desk with a conspicuous thud.

Yesterday’s attempt at unfiltered honesty had gone poorly, to say the least. Nobody had decided to clue Yui in to the fact that having bandmates on hand as support for romantic endeavors was a terrible idea. Perhaps this should have been obvious in retrospect, but Yui had as much experience on the battlefield of romance as she did with reading music properly. Knowing what a piece was supposed to sound like only carried one so far in comprehending the steps it took to get there. Worse, the mistake had left Yui with nothing but nerves plaguing her thoughts for her troubles. _Our band is in the middle of a fight I started, and I can only think about Azu-nyan. Selfish Yui. But is it selfish if I need Azu-nyan for energy? Wait, that sounds weird. She gives me energy? That’s better. If I can’t get energy from Azu-nyan or the band, I go back to powerless Yui. Powerless Yui can’t help her friends. If what Mugi-chan and Sawa-chan-sensei said about affecting people is true, I have to do my best now more than ever. But fate makes telling the truth too hard. _This immutable fact was enough for Yui to sink deeper into her desk, as if she could fall straight into the processed wood and come out in a universe where her problems were nonexistent.

Not a hair on Yui’s head was disturbed as the brunette turned dejectedly to face what she had dubbed rain once more. Her seat by the window truly was a magnanimous host, always ready with some form of entertainment for Yui to marvel at instead of the current lesson that made up an integral part of her high school education. _Pretty… I wonder if Azu-nyan can see this. Maybe I should send her a picture. _Yui had her phone halfway out of her pocket before she took the time to reconsider her idea. _Maybe not. If I lose my phone for having it out at the wrong time, I might miss a text from Azu-nyan. Mou. If Ricchan were here, she could cause a distraction. I hope she’s okay._

Though she and Tsumugi had tried, neither girl had been able to reach the band’s drummer since yesterday. Ritsu’s desk at the front of the room sat ominously empty, reminding Yui that the previous day had actually happened, a chord she couldn’t unplay. Currently impossible actions were demanded by Yui’s brain, the dance underneath her seat becoming more fervent. _I knew I was being selfish, and I did it anyways. I shouldn’t be trying to deal with the band’s problems and my confession to Azu-nyan at the same time. I’m meeting Azu-nyan after school, so I just need to tell Azu-nyan first and take care of the others after Ricchan comes back. I can be selfish if it’s for the sake of the band. _A half-smile appeared and disappeared on the guitarist, obfuscated by the fact that part of her mouth was still covered by the desk. _But I have to be careful. Azu-nyan is fragile. I don’t want her to suffer, like Jun-chan said she was. I keep messing up in front of her, so I have to do this right. Is that why I’m so nervous, why I don’t just tell her up front? Ugh. I need a nap. _The conditions were decent enough for rest under more traditional circumstances, but the racket from outside filled Yui’s mind and denied her the peace she sought.

_Wait, why is that the only thing I can hear?_

This thought and the sense that she was being watched drew Yui’s head from her desk. It was a buzz in the back of her head she was intimately familiar with, having a helicopter mom for a sister, but the location and intensity of the scrutiny eliminated Ui as a potential culprit. Her first guess that one of her friends was the offender turned out to be correct. Casting a subdued look to Mio, Yui’s eyes widened as she was met with Mio staring blatantly back at her. Yui blinked, the turn of events completely pulling her into the moment. _She’s staring at me! Why is Mio-chan staring at me? Wait a minute… does Mio-chan have repressed feelings for me? _The completely baseless claim born from a biased mind caused Yui’s hands to tremble. _That’s terrible! Mio-chan, I’m sorry, I don’t feel that way, probably! What do I do? I can’t hurt Mio-chan’s feelings now. What will Ricchan think? _Mio’s stare took on a modicum of confusion as tears started to form in Yui’s eyes.

Looking for any form of assistance, Yui turned to her other present bandmate, only to realize that Tsumugi was also staring at her. Yui’s eyes snapped fully open as she contemplated the sudden romantic interest her entire band had in her. _Is this why we haven’t found a solution?! What do I do? I need an adult! _Yui put both of her hands on her head, running them feverishly through her hair, the disquietingly silent observation becoming too much for the addled guitarist to handle.

Focusing on the only man in the room, Yui’s search for stability was met by her teacher’s sigh. “Have we returned to Earth yet, Hirasawa?” a sardonic voice questioned, cutting through Yui’s delusions. “Would you perhaps be willing to grace us with your attention long enough to answer my question?”

Blinking away her tears, Yui properly took in the classroom around her for the first time that day. It quickly became abundantly clear that everyone in class, not just Mio and Tsumugi, was staring at her. This fact sent an immediate wave of much-needed relief through the brunette. If she had only missed the prompt to answer a question, then there were no issues at all, and she could focus on Azusa without worrying about turning down her beloved bandmates. Though she had no idea what the question was, Yui knew exactly how to react in this situation from a disappointing amount of experience. Standing bolt upright without thinking caused Yui’s unprepared legs to trip over themselves, sending her back to her desk and eliciting a laugh from her less conscientious peers. Struggling to maintain what little dignity remained with her, Yui stood up properly and smoothed out her blazer. “Horigome-sensei! I wasn’t paying attention!” she declared, holding a hand out in front of her proudly.

Mr. Horigome, an aging classical literature teacher infamous for having the patience of a starving dog and an unhealthy addiction to hearing the sound of his own voice, shook his head. “We can all see that, child. I loathe repeating myself, but are the broken sprinklers outside really more interesting to you than the works of Shakespeare?” In response, the sprinkler rotated beyond its intended capacity, providing the window next to Yui with a fresh wave of water that looked like rain.

Though it obviously wasn’t rain that had soaked Yui’s window, she had found enough entertainment in the novelty of the concept of rain on a clear day to nod enthusiastically. “You should look at them before they get fixed, sensei! They’re really pretty! It’s like rain when it isn’t raining! And they’re gonna be fixed soon, so if you don’t act now, you’ll miss your chance and they’ll be gone forever!” A low level of laughter made its rounds around the classroom before Mr. Horigome could cut it off with a wave of his hand.

The classical literature teacher shook his head condescendingly, pushing his worn glasses up his face. “Well, if you believe your education to be more frivolous than even the tritest everyday occurrence, perhaps you should expend the rest of your limited youth frolicking in the sprinklers instead of pretending to desire a meaningful contribution to society. If you paid half as much attention to me as you did to that window, your potential in the school play might have risen above Tree G. Perhaps you’re of the mind that underachievement, bottom feeding on our country’s goodwill like the rest of the dregs of society is more fulfilling than the honest work the rest of us put in. Does that sound like you, Hirasawa? Are you going to be our nation’s next plague, or its doctor?” As if his proclamation needed punctuation, Mr. Horigome slammed the book he was holding firmly onto his desk.

Yui allowed precious seconds to bleed away as she attempted to decipher what exactly her teacher was ranting at her about amidst his complaints about the youth. Most of what the man said never lasted in Yui’s head for more than a minute or two, especially when he was talking directly to her. While she knew it was rude, Ritsu had reassured her that she’d be happier allowing Mr. Horigome’s insults to pass right through her, and she had no reason to doubt the career troublemaker of her group. A squeaking chair saved Yui from providing an incorrect response. “Yui-chan does well when she needs to,” Mio defended, her voice reminding Yui of the tone she reserved for performances. “She just has trouble paying attention sometimes.”

“I would hardly call every day this week sometimes, Akiyama,” the teacher rebutted. “But since you seem to be so passionate on the matter, why don’t you go stand outside with her and teach her a thing or two about how to behave. Pray I don’t find a reason to assign you both cleaning duty while you’re out there.” With every word, Mio appeared to shrink a little more, her bravado fading far faster than it appeared.

Cowed by their teacher, Yui and Mio only nodded wordlessly, making to scramble out of the room before their teacher changed his mind. Cleaning duty normally wasn’t a problem, but anything that might hold Yui back from meeting with Azusa as soon as possible was unacceptable today. In Mio’s case, having the top student in trouble was embarrassing enough, regardless of the reason. On the way out, Yui noticed Tsumugi preparing to stand up, but she coughed to catch the heiress’ eye and shook her head subtly. Conflicted, Tsumugi seated herself once more as the lesson continued without her being acknowledged. _No reason to get Mugi-chan in trouble too, even if it is boring outside. Also I need someone’s notes to copy. Nodoka-chan is too stingy. _

Exiting the classroom to an abandoned hallway, Mio stood dutifully under the sign to the door while Yui paced back and forth between where Mio stood and the 5 or 6 steps to the other side of the hallway. Her shadow from the morning sunlight ran up and down Mio’s body like a slow photocopier. “Are you alright?” Mio asked, her terse tone contrasting the concern in her eyes.

Yui stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. “Yeah. Ricchan taught me not to listen to Mr. Horigome when he’s in a bad mood. Thanks for sticking up for me though.”

Mio sighed, shaking her head. “I should have known you were fine. Well, you’re welcome anyways. Now come stand over here. We’re supposed to be quiet, and I won’t forgive you if we get in more trouble because you can’t sit still.” Folding her arms, Mio went mum, her head tilted pointlessly towards the ceiling.

Though the primal need to stave off the demon of boredom conflicted directly with Mio’s command, another pearl of wisdom Ritsu had bestowed upon her fellow underachiever was to never push Mio when it came to getting her in trouble. Yui’s back hit the wall in defeat. She had gotten quite good at getting in trouble for slacking off in Mr. Horigome’s class, to the point where any teachers who happened to have a route by her classroom at the time were on a first name basis with her. What that really meant was that she’d expended every possible form of entertainment to be found outside her classroom months ago. Of course, today wasn’t her fault, not when something as interesting as faulty sprinklers spraying a window was happening outside. This only just happened to coincide with yesterday, when a bird happened to land on the windowsill, and the day before, when a passing cloud happened to look so similar to a cat that Yui had tried to open the window to get a better look at it. It wasn’t her fault that Mr. Horigome was allergic to cats, birds, and apparently rainbows. If the man couldn’t appreciate the purity of an innocent mind’s wonder over nature’s beauty, then that was his problem. Yui’s only problem was that the hallway was currently abandoned sans her and a stoic Mio, leaving her with nothing to occupy herself. Mio was blocking her spot to attempt to beat her world record for most times touching the classroom sign in one minute, so Yui resigned herself to counting the floorboards again. It wasn’t fun by any stretch of the imagination, but Yui wasn’t about to attempt to risk Mio’s wrath over a simple conversation. Fate, however, wasn’t interested in what Yui wanted. Squinting to determine if she had counted the oddly-colored wood panel twice or not gave Yui a premier view of the red-tipped shoes rounding the corner at the end of the hallway. Mio suppressed her embarrassment with a disturbingly stoic grimace as Yui lifted herself from the wall to meet her kouhai’s eyes. The younger girl appeared to be just as starved for a proper reaction at the impromptu meeting as her senpais. Her hands struggled with the papers she was holding, saved only by the slowing of her hurried pace as she stalled in the hallway in front of her senpais. “Azu-nyan?” Yui asked warily, before she found her neutral smile. “Hello! What are you doing here?”

Azusa placed the papers she had been holding on the ground as she began to sift through them, sorting them into a more manageable stack. “Delivering some papers for my teacher,” she replied plainly. “You shouldn’t be talking to me if you’re in trouble. I have to imagine it’s your fault Mio-senpai is out here, so don’t make things worse for her. I’ll see you both after school, senpais.” The kouhai rose and began to stride away, the rigidity in her posture accenting the uneasy atmosphere her curt reply had brewed between the girls.

Watching Azusa walk away with such finality drew out unpleasant fears that Yui hadn’t realized she’d been harboring until a few days ago. “Ricchan isn’t here, so we can’t practice,” Yui called after the retreating guitarist, drawing on the first talking point she could think of to salvage the interaction. “So, if you still want to practice together with just us, we can do it right after school. If you still want to, that is. No pressure. I don’t mind either way. We can put it off if you want. No pressure, really.” A raised eyebrow from Mio couldn’t distract Yui from the nerves that assaulted her as she spoke faster and faster, a new symptom of her revelation that complicated her interactions with Azusa.

For her part, Azusa stopped patiently halfway between the door to Yui’s classroom and the next one, waiting for her senpai to finish repeating herself. “I see,” she responded vaguely without facing her senpais. “I wasn’t sure if she was serious about that or not.”

A huff was the first sound Mio chose to make since Azusa appeared. “She’s only serious about things that inconvenience everyone around her. She’ll come back when she gets bored of not practicing, or when she gets hungry for Mugi-chan’s confections.” The air of confidence about Mio’s words matched poorly with the hint of worry in her tone. “She better come back soon, that baka. She and Mugi-chan have a lot of explaining to do.”

Azusa and Yui exchanged a look, both remembering the reason Ritsu had taken off in the first place. Neither found the words to approach the conflict before the bell interrupted their meeting. Azusa gasped. “Shoot, I’m gonna be late. We’ll definitely meet after school, okay Yui-senpai? Excuse me.”

Placated by Azusa’s acquiescence, Yui nodded eagerly. Azusa rewarded her senpai with a small smile and a wave before walking away briskly as Mio thoughtfully looked on. The halls started to bloom with life as the pair watched their kouhai disappear, neither finding an appropriate reason to return to their classroom immediately. Right as Azusa rounded the corner and vanished from sight, Mr. Horigome appeared at the door, glancing around suspiciously. When his eyes met the perky senior’s, he sighed. “I thought I heard someone, but I suppose I’m going senile faster than you’re learning anything in my class. Ah, forget it. Normally you’d have cleaning duty, but that wouldn’t be fair to my top student, so thank her for caring more about your future than you do. Go get the homework from the blonde one before I change my mind,” the man gruffly ordered. “And try to pay attention tomorrow, will you? I’m not giving you another chance this week, and Ms. Yamanaka won’t be able to cover for you forever.” Without bothering to wait for a response, the teacher stalked off in the same direction Azusa had left in.

Pointlessly waving her teacher off with a thanks for his mercy, Yui made to return to her class 3-2, only for Mio to cut off her reentry. Her presence had grown heavier since Azusa left, the nonchalance in her expression a cunning guise for the pressure Yui felt in the moment their eyes met. While most would be intimidated, Yui only felt worry for the reasoning behind her friend’s discontent, the need to help sending useless adrenaline through her body. “I’d like to know something, before we go back in,” Mio requested, playing with her hands.

Tragically, Yui’s interpretation of what Mio wanted to know led her to the absolutely worst possible conclusion. It was a common misconception among the lovesick that their disease was wildly contagious. “You should definitely ask Ricchan out!” she exclaimed, giving her friend a thumbs up. “You two would be cute together!”

Mio gave up all the color on her face. Her aura was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by some mix of disbelief and lingering frustration. It was the sort of look Yui saw on Mio when she held back from slacking off with the rest of the band despite obviously wanting to. Azusa had a similar reaction to Yui’s hugs, at least as far as Yui was concerned. “It’s not like that, Yui,” The bassist warned the guitarist, her hands swaying back and forth at her side like they wanted to run away from her. “Was I the only person that baka didn’t blab to? For God’s sake, how did she think telling you was a good idea? The fan club rumors are one thing, but if even you knew and I didn’t… Mou!” She kicked the frame of the door with her heel and proceeded to hop on one foot in pain, regretting the action instantly.

In truth, Yui hadn’t given much thought to Tsumugi’s revelation. She knew Mio and Ritsu were close, which meant that they were probably couple material. Why that was a massive deal was a hypocritical puzzle to the guitarist. Now truly confused, Yui shook her head. “Eh? No, you’ve got the wrong idea, Mio-chan. Nobody told me anything about this. I just sorta assumed you two would be cute together. Isn’t that how this sort of thing works?”

There was an attempt to eye Yui with suspicion, but the purity of ignorance shook off any accusation Mio could scream out silently with her glare. The dust of Yui’s question settled with Mio’s huff of defeat as she placed her hands together in a prayer formation. “God help you, Azusa-chan.”

Finishing her prayer before Yui could ask what that probably rude gesture meant, Mio refocused on the point. “Alright, Yui-chan. I can’t believe you’d keep a secret like this for hours, let alone years, so I’ll believe you. That being said, you need to believe me when I tell you that the only thing that kept me connected to that idiot all this time is her need for a tutor. I’m not…like that.” Yui’s silence caused Mio to quickly blush and justify herself. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s perfectly fine, I just don’t feel, ah, it’s just that, um, well, mou, never mind. You get what I’m trying to say, right?” The way Mio asked that question implied to Yui that Mio desperately needed her to get it.

As the hallway continued to populate itself, Mio shrank back towards the doorway slightly, their silence muffled by the white noise of the passerby. Yui mused over her response, unaware of the tortuous nature of her lack of response._ Mio-chan is acting a bit strange. Love is strange too, I understand that. It’s hard to describe. Mugi-chan called them kindred spirits? Maybe that’s the same thing. Well, that doesn’t matter. Mio-chan needs help. _“I don’t really get it, but will you feel better when Ricchan comes back?” Yui asked. “I miss her already.”

To Yui’s surprise, Mio smirked, then laughed lightly to herself. The laugh was as refreshing as running through a broken sprinkler on a hot day for Yui. “If I wanted her gone, it’d have happened a long time ago,” Mio decided when she calmed down, perhaps a mite more portentous than she meant to sound. “I’ll make her pay when she comes back. In any case, your focus should be on Azusa-chan for the moment, shouldn’t it?”

The reminder sullied Yui’s mood from improving over Mio’s recovery. Her head drooped a little as she took a half-step backwards uncertainty. Having Mio be the one to tell her she needed to do something made the looming meeting terrifyingly real in her head. “Ne, Mio-chan, I need to apologize to you and the others again for yesterday. I messed up.”

“You did,” Mio harshly replied, crossing her arms and stepping out from the door frame once more. “But apologizing over the phone yesterday was enough. You shouldn’t have tried to, ah, confess in front of everyone, especially after yesterday morning, but it’s not your fault things escalated the way they did. Just…” The bassist trailed off, contemplative as she searched Yui’s brown eyes for the next thing to say.

Hanging on every piece of advice Mio was willing to offer, Yui leaned in closer, reclaiming the ground she had sacrificed. She was millimeters from tipping over and crashing into Mio when the bassist finished her sentence. “Just, whatever happens, please try to understand where Azusa-chan’s coming from. Can you promise me that?”

The proposal did little for Yui’s nerves. Her mind was racing towards conclusions Mio’s words implied that she didn’t want to consider. It was going to be infinitely harder for Yui to bare her soul to Azusa if she was entertaining the possibility of failure. It didn’t help that Yui’s support system was going to be absent for her second attempt. “I felt like I needed to have you all there, to support me,” Yui admitted, fiddling with her yellow hairclip. “Now I get that that was weird, but I really wasn’t sure if I would be strong enough to tell Azu-nyan about how I feel about her if you all weren’t there. I’ve never been this nervous before, but I can’t not take a chance on this, not when being honest has kept us together this long. I have faith in Azu-nyan and everyone.” Yui had to remove her hand when it began tugging incessantly at her hair.

Mio tilted her head, incredulous at Yui’s vulnerability “You of all people shouldn’t have to worry about being nervous. I’ve never known you to get cold feet over anything you’ve decided to do.” Yui’s downcast expression inspired Mio to quickly change her tune again. “I know things are changing, Yui-chan. Mugi-chan seems hellbent on making sure of that. I just want to warn you to be ready to accept the consequences of your actions, like you did yesterday. It’s only the band’s business if you let it affect our practices, or what passes for them anyways.”

Without noticing, Yui found that her fists had become clenched, a memory of one of Azusa’s comments resurfacing. _I’m not always carefree. I get nervous too, though I guess I haven’t shown them that side of Yui very often. I shouldn’t complain about that. Happy Yui is good for everyone, including me. More importantly, Mio-chan is right. _“I don’t want to make people upset, and the way I did things yesterday upset everyone,” Yui responded. “You all needed to know, because we affect each other, but I went about it the wrong way. Mugi-chan and Sawa-chan made it clear that we affect each other. I can’t do this if I know I’m hurting my friends over it, so I’ll do it right this time. I’m sorry.” The guitarist bowed slightly.

Formality surprised Mio, while mentioning Tsumugi brought a frown to her face. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing for hurting your friends,” Mio corrected. “If Ritsu really felt that way, she should have told me, so it wouldn’t come out like this. And Mugi-chan shouldn’t have covered this up for so long. I can’t believe they’d turn heel on each other so suddenly. Just when I’m starting to figure things out, they had to go and poke holes in our future. Now I don’t know what to do.” The bassist allowed her body to collide against the wall behind her with a thud.

There was nothing of use running through Yui’s mind at the moment. Things were tangled between deciding what to say to Azusa, worrying over how she was going to keep the band together with Mio and the others in such precarious positions, and remembering what Ui had put in her lunch. Having already bequeathed her future plans to a technically unknowing Mio, it was unsettling to see her so indecisive. “Why don’t we just ask Mugi-chan?” Yui suggested, defaulting to strength in numbers. “She’s smart too. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

The bassist shook her head violently, creating a black whirlpool around her head for a brief instant. “Were you listening? She’s part of the problem. Are you really okay with what she might have been doing behind our backs?”

“I believe I’ve been rather up front about everything, Mio-chan,” Tsumugi interrupted from behind Mio’s back.

Mio jumped a solid meter into the air while Yui simply nodded thoughtfully, having been facing the door Tsumugi came out of. “Mugi-chan, what are you doing behind our backs?” Yui interrogated. “Face our fronts!”

Tsumugi couldn’t immediately respond to that order if she wanted to. Even Mio gave her friend a deadpan look as Tsumugi struggled to find an answer. “Ah… yes? My only interests are that of the band’s future. If I did something without telling you immediately, it was for the good of the band. Are you two alright? The next class will be starting soon. We should get inside.” Motioning suggestively towards the door, Tsumugi made way for her friends to rejoin the class.

Rebounding from her scare, Mio eyed Tsumugi suspiciously. “How does confessing on behalf of Ritsu constitute acting for the good of the band?” she accused. “All you did is rile the baka up, not to mention Azusa-chan’s-” Mio silenced herself as her eyes cut back to Yui for an instant.

Shrugging off the awkward ending to Mio’s statement, Tsumugi motioned towards the door again, a bit more insistently. “I’d very much like to discuss it further with you, but we don’t have much time at the moment. In brief, I believe that by saying nothing, Ritsu is voluntarily forfeiting her desired future with the intent to avoid later heartbreak. Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of the band, Mio-chan. I’m going to see our family into the future together.” A determination Tsumugi rarely displayed shone in her tranquil blue eyes, aweing Yui and worrying Mio.

Mio stepped back into the classroom turning to face Tsumugi once she had made it a few paces in. She spoke once more as Yui followed, her voice hushed to avoid the attention of the rest of the distracted class. “Clearly you don’t speak for all of us. If that’s how you feel, then apologize to Ritsu and Azusa-chan after this one gets done with her so we can stop playing these dumb games and get around to handling the real problems we’ll be dealing with in March.” As she whispered harshly, she jerked a thumb towards the girl entering the room nearby.

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Mio-chan,” Tsumugi whispered over Yui’s question of what Mio meant in calling her out. “I want to apologize, but if I do that now, then nothing will change, because the apology would be disingenuous. This isn’t how I’d like to do things, but I will do what I have to in order to maintain HTT as it is, even if it feels wrong. Your plan has to be accepted by everyone of their own volition. There can be no lingering regrets that would destroy what we’ve spent so much time building together if we’re to survive.”

As one might suspect, whispering suspiciously in the front of the room was only making the girls’ classmates more interested in what was going on. Well aware of the power of Sakuragaoka high’s rumor mill, Tsumugi directed her friends towards her seat as Yui mused guiltily over the unmistakable hostility her friends were displaying. _Is this my fault too, for wanting to confess? Mugi-chan didn’t tell me to do that, I don’t think, but Mio-chan won’t believe me. I shouldn’t be wondering about love when my best friends are fighting. But I can’t stop thinking about what to do about Azu-nyan. _Yui’s temper reached a boiling point as she stamped a foot on the ground to call attention to herself. “Mou, can’t you all just cut it out?!” she whined. “Friends shouldn’t fight over dumb stuff!”

The outburst quashed the terse conversation between the two long-haired members of the band. Anyone who wasn’t observing the three Light Music Club members or was pretending not to now gave them their undivided attention. Tsumugi and Mio exchanged a look as they took in Yui’s exasperation. “I’m sorry, Yui-chan,” Mio spoke first, aware of the eyes on her. “We’re not trying to upset you.”

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Yui asked, dropping her tone to an uneven normal. “This is because I want to tell Azu-nyan how I feel. If I hadn’t dragged you all into that situation, you wouldn’t be fighting right now.”

Tsumugi shook her head around Mio frantically trying to signal Yui to not make Azusa’s life hell with her words. “Conflict and change feed off of and grow from each other, Yui-chan. This argument would have happened at some point.”

Realizing that Yui had no idea what Mio was doing, the bassist recovered by nodding to herself. “At the least, it’s not your fault, Yui-chan. You’re right though. We shouldn’t be doing this here. We should table this until everything has settled down a little and everyone’s present to discuss our next move. I think we would all benefit by taking the time to make sure our band is on the same page. I haven’t been thinking quite straight of late either. At least _I’m_ not eavesdropping on my classmates out of boredom.” The last line was spoken far louder than the others, and inspired most of the class to turn away, ashamed.

To both Mio and Yui’s surprise, Tsumugi nodded in agreement. “That sounds wonderful. Let’s do that as soon as Ricchan comes back.” Tsumugi sat in her seat in time with the next teacher arriving, forcing Mio and Yui to scamper to their own seats.

Yui wasn’t sure how to properly interpret the current situation as the third period began, but Mio and Tsumugi no longer looked like they wanted to slug each other, so Yui was placated. With one problem temporarily tabled, Yui allowed herself to refocus on the matter of the coming afternoon. The next class garnered as much interest from the senior as the previous two, the main difference being her English teacher didn’t mind her listlessly staring out the window. Classes bled into a lunch period that Yui spent on the roof, if only to have a peaceful shore for her raging nerves to harmlessly wash up against. She received no complaints from her friends, only stoic encouragement that Yui furiously berated herself for questioning the meaning behind. She wanted desperately to take their smiles at face value, but Mio’s comments and her questions surrounding Tsumugi kept her goodwill at bay. The best she could settle for was giving them her own practiced smile as she hid the anxiety clawing at her over her next action. _This isn’t me. I trust my friends, and Azu-nyan. Even if it’s a long shot like they think, I have to try. I have to believe that things will work out as long as I give it my all. Our strength comes from these feelings. Until things are really normal again, I have to get strength from that. _

Between her band’s precarious peace and her meeting at the end of the day, Yui was somewhere between exploding and taking a nap by the time school let out. Though coming to the roof in previous days had done wonders to clear her head, Yui was well aware that there was only one thing that was going to ease the burdens plaguing her conscious. Like a daydream, the school day ended in the blink of an eye, and Yui was left without enough time to even decide what she was going to say to Azusa. Rising from her seat, exchanging informal goodbyes and words of encouragement with her friends, none of it felt real. Yui could feel her heart attempting to drag her anywhere but where she was walking. _Why am I so nervous? Yui doesn’t get nervous. It’s just Azu-nyan. I was fine with doing this yesterday. Is it really because we’re alone? Do I really depend on everyone that much? No. I have to be mature Yui. They have to see that I can be mature, especially Azu-nyan. I’m coming, Azu-nyan! _Determined, Yui threw open the door to the clubroom confidently, a physical declaration of her intentions announcing her entrance. What Yui hadn’t prepared for was her kouhai beating her to the clubroom. Azusa sat pensively on the clubroom’s couch while tuning her guitar. When the door was assaulted, she glanced up just in time to look away again, the bashful nature of her reaction coming off as rather cute to her senpai. “Good afternoon, senpai,” Azusa greeted formally, though a crack in her voice gave Yui a peek into where Azusa’s head was at. “H-how are you?”

Yui plastered on a smile for her junior, taking solace in the fact that her kouhai was nervous too. The idea forming in her head to tackle Azusa outright to erase the tension both girls were feeling was thankfully stopped just in time by her brain. Tact was the only way she was going to win over her kouhai in this situation, her brain chided for her. Succeeding in not ruining things before they began, Yui nodded politely and set her bag down next to Azusa’s, taking the time to look around the clubroom as she did. _I never really thought about how much time we spend in here. Snacks at the table, doodles on the whiteboard, wasting time staring out the windows with Ton-chan, lounging on the couch, playing in front of the chalkboard… I’ve seen all these memories before, but they feel so important now. I really do love this club. But that’s not why I’m here today. _Noticing that she had been crouching by her bags far longer than she needed to, Yui rose, hoping her expression could placate both girls’ anxiety. “Hello, Azu-nyan. Did I keep you waiting long?” Though the urge to take out her own guitar was gnawing at her, Yui mustered the tremendous amount of self-restraint necessary to wait until she knew what her kouhai wanted.

“No, senpai,” Azusa denied, flinching as her fingernail caught one of her strings. “Are you ready to practice? I wouldn’t mind if we chatted a bit first, or spoke over tea, even.” The invitation would have been enough for Yui on any other day, but the hitch in Azusa’s voice and her lack of composure gave the senior pause.

On the surface, Yui was staring at the normal, strict, serious Azusa, but there were several tells that gave her away as being a nervous wreck. Her feet played with each other nervously, the way Yui’s did when she was daydreaming, though for Azusa it usually indicated restlessness. Her eyes wandered everywhere in the room but Yui, her defenses completely open for a hug that Yui knew she trained Azusa to be better prepared for. Most damning was the fact that Azusa had been tuning her G string ever since Yui came in, and was still testing it, despite being perfectly in tune. _She’s on edge. I guess it makes sense that she’d be nervous too, but why? Azu-nyan isn’t confessing, I am. Well, I can’t be careless this time though. That’s how everyone ended up fighting. I don’t want Azu-nyan to suffer. Once this one thing changes, I just want everyone to play together, like normal. _The word had grown stale for Yui as she rolled it over in her head. _Normal. This isn’t normal Light Music Club time. Mio-chan, Sawa-chan, Mugi-chan, Azu-nyan and even Ricchan said we weren’t normal. Maybe then, the solution isn’t normal either. I don’t want to do this alone. But Azu-nyan’s here. That’s enough, isn’t it? _A strong urge to flee with her kouhai in tow and escape the situation washed over Yui, a paradox she hardly noticed as her hands started to shake outside Azusa’s vision.

Nodding once to steady herself, Yui shouldered her bag once more and faced a puzzled Azusa confidently. “Azu-nyan, let’s go somewhere else. This isn’t supposed to be a club activity.” _I’ll figure out what to say on the way. That’s how performances work, ne? _

Unused to being slower on the uptake than her senpai, Azusa frowned. “Eh? Where? What about practicing? Wouldn’t that make things easier? What about the others?” Questions tumbled from the kouhai that Yui struggled to keep up with.

“The others are probably on the way home by now. This is between Azu-nyan and Yui, not Giita and Muttan. Besides, don’t you want to do something fun?” The pitch was childish, but any tune above the lowest level of diplomacy wasn’t a chord Yui knew how to play.

The sound of Azusa’s guitar faded out smoothly, as if it was appreciating hearing its name. “You know I don’t like you bringing up Muttan’s name,” Azusa complained, running a finger over her guitar’s neck. “Shouldn’t we just talk things over if you don’t want to practice? I think we both know what you want to say, and-”

Unwilling to allow Azusa to continue what was probably a logical explanation, Yui hushed her kouhai. ”Azu-nyan, I’m not going to mess this up again like yesterday. At least give me the chance to show you I can do this right, please?” Yui held out a hand invitingly towards her kouhai.

For a moment, Yui was scared that Azusa was going to completely reject her right there. She knew she was taking a risk by so drastically pushing Azusa out of her comfort zone, but Yui could feel within herself that, if she tried to speak now, the words were sure to come out wrong. _I need to figure out what to say just as much as I need to show Azu-nyan what I’m saying. _Azusa cautiously took Yui’s hand, allowing herself to be pulled up to a standing position with her guitar. “Alright, we’ll do it your way for now. But I’m not going to let you forget why we’re here, you got that?” she cautioned her beaming senpai. “Where are we going?”

Yui blinked, realizing she didn’t have an answer to that question. Azusa’s curiosity melted into disappointment as Yui gave her a blank stare. “You don’t know, do you, senpai?” she accused, pulling her hand away to store her guitar in its bag.

“We’re going somewhere fun!” Yui insisted, hoping she wasn’t lying. “Just, ah, let me tell Ui real quick so she doesn’t worry!”

As Yui furiously texted her sister for good dating spot ideas, Azusa picked up her bags with an air of exasperation. “Why would Ui-chan need to know what we’re doing?” she muttered to herself.

Within seconds, Ui came through, and Yui had a plan again. When Yui looked up, Azusa was waiting by the door, holding Yui’s school bag in her free hand. The keychain on the bag that combined with the other member’s keychains to spell out Light Music Club caught the sunlight and created a beacon to beckon Yui forwards. Yui found a smile gracing her as her kouhai dutifully held her bag out to her airhead of a senpai. _It’s cute how seriously she takes everything. That’s a reason we couldn’t do this here. I need you to see me as Yui, not Yui-senpai. You deserve to relax after everything you’ve had to deal with, little kitty. Yui can do that just as well as Yui-senpai can. _Walking to the door, Yui took Azusa’s hand and held onto it as she transferred her bag to her back with her guitar bag.

Azusa shifted a little but didn’t attempt to break out of her senpai’s grip. Taking the reaction as positive, Yui’s smile grew with her confidence. “Alright, let’s go!” she declared, taking off and practically dragging her kouhai out the door and down the stairs.

The duo made it all the way to the front of the school before being unceremoniously halted. In the back of her mind, Yui had suspected that Azusa would have yanked her hand free from her senpai’s much sooner, but only as they reached their shoe lockers did it become taut. Straggler students filed out around the pair as Yui questioned Azusa’s trepidation with bright eyes. “Sorry. Let’s go,” Azusa mumbled, her voice engulfed by the effulgent distractions that were the surrounding conversations.

Azusa passed by her senpai and opened her shoe locker, leaving Yui with the impression that someone had just stared through her soul. The way Azusa was carrying herself wasn’t anything close to the nerves of a flustered girl dancing the dance of romance for the first time, or even the excitement of a friend going to hang out with her friends. Azusa’s presence was solemn, determined even, and Yui couldn’t even begin to fathom why. It was usually fun not knowing exactly what her kouhai was thinking, as it made talking more interesting to the senior. Reading her kouhai’s thoughts was often too arduous a task for the senior to even attempt, but for the moment, she put in the effort as she exchanged her own shoes. _Think, brain. Azu-nyan is carrying herself like she’s about to take an exam she didn’t study for. The whole point of this trip is to get Azu-nyan to think about just the two of us, if only for one afternoon. If she only looks at things in context of the band, she won’t realize what I realized. _Finishing her shoe transition, Yui began to sneak up on her kouhai. _Well, there’s only one solution for getting Azu-nyan to relax. _As soon as Azusa attempted to turn to face her senpai’s poor attempt at stealth, Yui seized the younger guitarist in a bear hug, lifting her an inch or two off the ground. “Azu-nyan energy!” Yui declared proudly, showing off her source of energy to the school.

After a brief struggle, Azusa managed to worm her way out of her senpai’s grip, slapping her senpai’s cheek in the process. “Senpai, how many times have I told you not to do that? I should have brought that joy buzzer. Mou, people are staring at us now.” When called out, the passerby who had been observing the interaction moved along complacently, their whispers ensuring that Azusa would never hear the end of this in class tomorrow.

Yui frowned. Her attempt at loosening the stiffness between the two of them had only gone one way. There was her patented special move, but she doubted she’d be able to pat Azusa on the head long enough for her to calm down before she could be violently rejected. Azusa noticed her senpai’s indecisiveness when she started to walk out the front door alone. “Senpai, come on. It’ll be dark soon, and I have homework to finish tonight. Let’s not dawdle.”

There was only one correct response to that summons in Yui’s mind, but she found herself stuck to the floor. _Maybe Azu-nyan really doesn’t like me that way. I know I’m not supposed to think like that, but maybe it’s not just embarrassment. She’s still seeing me as her senpai. _“Call me Yui,” Yui declared, crossing her arms in a pout.

“Eh? No. That’s disrespectful,” Azusa responded, crossing her own arms. “Come on, senpai, this whole relocation thing was your idea.”

Despite Azusa’s growing impatience, Yui’s childlike obstinacy held firm. “It’s not disrespectful if I’m telling you to do it, Azu-nyan. You’ve done it before.” _I have to change something. She has to talk to Yui, not Yui-senpai. _Whether the two were actually different wasn’t a problem Yui had the mental capability to solve, nor was she trying. All her focus was on her kouhai in the moment.

Thinking back to what Yui was talking about, Azusa blushed. She abandoned her post at the doorway and marched right into Yui’s face. Yui felt herself blush bashfully at the sudden change in proximity, though Azusa didn’t notice. “Yui-senpai, that was an accident. Can we just go? I’m uncomfortable with all these people watching us.”

It became apparent that Yui-senpai would be needed to get Azusa where she was going before Yui could take over. Yui’s taboo on movement was broken as she placed a reassuring hand on her kouhai’s shoulder. “Take your time, Azu-nyan. When you say my name, we’ll have our talk. Until then, just follow me, okay?” Taking the pressure off of herself wasn’t the kindest thing Yui could have done, but anything that allowed her to move again was worth it in the moment.

Eventually, Azusa sighed and nodded to herself. “Alright, fine. Where are we going?”

Yui allowed herself to giggle, forgetting the point of her trip almost as soon as she turned her attention to their destination. “It’s a surprise!”

Muttering about how it always felt like a surprise, Azusa followed Yui out the front door. Had Yui happened to look at her kouhai as she spoke, she would have noticed the traitorous smile forming on her kouhai’s face at the thought.

* * *

**November 16th, 1 hour later **

“This is your big surprise?” Azusa wondered aloud in disbelief. “I don’t know why I was expecting something different.”

“Mou, make it sound like you don’t have any faith in me,” Yui whined, nudging her kouhai playfully. “You’re telling me you don’t like the mall?”

A long walk to her destination had done wonders for Yui’s nerves, as well as completely exhausted her. In addition to lugging her schoolbags around, she had found herself covering every conceivable conversation topic she knew in an attempt to loosen the stiffness in her kouhai’s shoulders. Keeping Azusa engaged and out of her own head was a marathon sprint Yui hadn’t adequately trained for. There was only so much she could say about strawberries on cake before Azusa berated her for thinking of nothing but food. When she had originally targeted the mall at Ui’s suggestion, she hadn’t accounted for how far away from the school it was. Admittedly, stopping to pet every dog she saw wasn’t doing wonders for their arrival time. “I just didn’t expect to be travelling so far,” Azusa admitted, adjusting the straps on her bag. “We don’t have much time before we need to head back.”

Both girls would frequent the town mall on their days off, but neither had found the time to go since the festival, with friends or otherwise. Under more traditional conditions, the bustling of passerby would muddle the imposing nature of such a large amalgamation of storefronts, but the unfriendly cold reduced foot traffic enough for the girls to truly appreciate Yui’s chosen location. “We should hurry, then! I want food!” Yui declared, starting off towards the nearest restaurant.

“Hold it,” Azusa commended, matching Yui’s pace. “You have money, right senpai? Or a plan? Preferably both?”

Smirking, Yui whipped out her purse and showed off a small fold of bills. “I got my allowance this morning!” she boasted, her pride masking the significant decrease in pay she normally received. “And don’t worry about it! We’ll find out where we’re supposed to be when we get there together!” This concept was unfathomable to the strait-laced kouhai, but she wasn’t the one leading the way at the moment.

Surrounding herself with novel sights and sounds was an effective means of pulling Yui’s attention from her problems, and Azusa was unfortunate enough to be close enough to Yui to be pulled with her. Ui probably hadn’t suggested the mall with the intent of relieving Yui’s tenseness, but having so many fun things to do was doing exactly that for the older guitarist. Of course, she couldn’t completely forget about the younger guitarist she was dragging with her. Their first stop, a department store that had shoved Yui’s hunger to the back of her mind, had nearly kicked them out after Yui spent half an hour trying on outfits she had no possible means of purchasing. The embarrassment Azusa showed when they shamefully retreated was worth the smile Yui had seen when she convinced her kouhai to try on a dress or three. Their next stop was a diner where Yui had her fill of various sweets and Azusa subsisted on coffee and what she begrudgingly accepted from Yui’s portions. What they talked about was unknown to Yui, who was too wrapped up in the moment to remember it. As long as Azusa appeared to be enjoying herself, Yui didn’t feel the need to slow down. They made a trip to the hardware store where Azusa had to drag her senpai away before she could purchase Ton’s long lost brother with the last of her funds. Store after store followed, each one selling more useless trinkets and eye candy than the last as the sun sank below the buildings looming over the mall. Aside from a music store that Azusa insisted they boycott, the pair investigated nearly every curious-looking shop they came across, a scavenger hunt where the only objective was to find something interesting. The two became lost in a jungle of commerce, and even Azusa found herself getting swept up in the wonder of exploration as the pair scoured the streets for the next fancy sign that would catch Yui’s eye. Without the pressure to act, Yui felt free, her feet flying across a concrete stage where only her performance and her partner’s performance mattered. Somewhere along the line, Yui realized that she felt like herself for the first time since the festival, and the thought comforted her.

It was as the pair was purchasing seasonally inappropriate, yet cheap ice cream from a parlor right before it closed that Yui saw the easy smile fall from Azusa’s face once more. She wanted to question her kouhai as she handed her her vanilla cone, but she already had a good idea of what she was thinking about. _Is this it? Did I do enough? It was fun. Azu-nyan definitely had fun. What should I do now? Is this the part where I… _Reality had no qualms with smacking Yui upside the head with her task.

Against the fading sunlight, Azusa and Yui walked silently with their cones. Both had a sense of what was coming, but neither had the desire to move past the moment they had created together just yet. “This was a better idea than practicing,” Azusa admitted between licks. “I didn’t realize how stressed out I was until you made me relax a little, so thanks, senpai.”

Yui winked, her mouth full of strawberry ice cream. “Iths nou pro-” she swallowed, gasping a little at the lump of cold travelling down her throat. “It’s no problem, Azu-nyan. All part of the plan!”

“Uh-huh,” Azusa suspiciously responded around a small smile. “I’ll believe that when Ton-chan says it himself.”

The pair soldiered on, making similar small talk right up to the other side of the mall they had entered from. Their cones were emptied and consumed, leaving an unsettling air between the two as they walked side by side. Eventually, Azusa took the lead for the first time since they arrived and faced her senpai, a resolute expression on her face. “Yui,” she whispered, before shaking her head once. “Yui,” she repeated, a bit more sharply.

Freezing up, Yui stared incredulously at her kouhai. She found herself absorbing every detail of her kouhai in the moment she heard her name, taking a snapshot in her mind to prove it existed. “Azu-nyan?” Yui responded, her voice giving nothing away. “You have ice cream on your face.”

Wiping the offending material off quickly, Azusa refused to be deterred any longer. “I’m ready to talk now. This was the deal, right?”

In that moment, Yui remembered the agreement she had made that had allowed her to relax the entire afternoon. “I’m not sure,” Yui admitted, rubbing the back of her head gently. “What do you want me to say?”

Azusa pinched the bridge of her nose, her expression committing to a terse frown. “Please don’t tell me you forgot about what you said before we left. This was the whole point of this, ah, outing. Tell me you remember, please.”

Yui glanced around, as if her surroundings had an answer for her. Dashing into another store wasn’t an option when the two of them were on a bridge. Steel barred railings entrapped her on both sides. The sunset’s gleam was caught by the river below, igniting the pale yellow flowers blooming on both banks of the river and giving Yui the impression that she was standing over a river of raging fire. This eliminated the option of jumping off the bridge. Though Azusa didn’t have much stamina, she was in far better shape than her lazy senpai, which eliminated simply fleeing. _Wait, I shouldn’t be trying to run. This is what I wanted, ne? This has to be the right time. Focus time, Yui. Azu-nyan’s right there! You wanted to feel like yourself, right? Treat this like the meeting. You can do this! _“I remember, I’m just nervous,” Yui confessed, pursing her lips and shoving her hands into her pockets to prevent them from wandering off. “This is all new to me. It’s confusing, going alone.”

To Yui’s relief, Azusa didn’t follow her senpai’s example from earlier in the day. “Then let’s get this done quickly,” she ordained. “Say what you need to say, senpai. I’m listening.” Though it came off as a bit curt, Yui could tell that Azusa at least trying to do what she thought was the right thing, in her own cute sort of way.

A resolve Yui had been searching for ever since discovering the truth within herself finally appeared, guiding her thoughts and words. “Today was fun. You had fun, ne, Azu-nyan?” Yui started, her gaze locked with the flaming cinders reflected in Azusa’s orange-tinted eyes.

Azusa couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to, but she was just as interested in retreating now as her senpai was. Yui’s entire body began to heat up as the fire raged around them, the sun less than a half-circle over the river. “Of course, Yui-senpai. I was annoyed at first, and several other times, but it was fun, too.”

Hearing those words was equivalent to a mountain climber reaching a peak after days of arduous climbing. Yui let out a breath she’d been withholding from the air between herself and Azusa, leaning over on the railing amidst Azusa’s confusion at the reaction. “That’s… great. That’s wonderful, Azu-nyan.” She cocked her head and grinned across one side of her face. “That means we’re dating now!”

Having made the mistake of thinking she’d be prepared for anything Yui could possibly say, Azusa paid the price of dropping her school bag on her foot. The headlights of a passing car ignited the scene, burning away even the fire surrounding the younger girl as she was stunned out of feeling the pain of dropping her heavy bag on herself. Tiny clumps of snow sprang up from the impact site, landing on the road and what parts of Azusa’s shoes weren’t covered by the bag. Her guitar case was spared only by the fact that it was attached to Azusa’s back without needing the assistance of her hands. The stalemate between Azusa and movement lasted long enough for Yui to understand that Azusa’s response wasn’t going to belay the dimming of her future prospects she dreaded. “Yui-senpai, I’ve said it before, but I guess I haven’t been clear enough. That’s my fault, I suppose. I’ll try again. We’re just friends. We’re not going to kick this can down the road anymore. I don’t want what you want, and you know that. I think you’ve known that, and you just don’t want to admit it, but that’s how it is. I’m sorry.”

“I know what you say we are, but I think we could be something better,” Yui posited softly, taking a small step forward. “Azu-nyan, you’re special to me. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out why I couldn’t just ignore the problems until they went away. The answer I found was that I really love the Light Music Club, and everyone in it. You were different though. You’re better at giving me energy than anyone I know. Today was a lot of fun. I want to have fun like that all the time, don’t you?”

As soon as she tossed the question at the kouhai, Azusa broke the stare between the girls, kneeling down to retrieve her bag. Just that implicit distance between them was enough to make Yui feel cold for the first time that day. In the back of her mind, she was bothered by how desperately she felt as if she needed to hear Azusa’s positive response, but the voice was too small to be heard amidst the inferno under the bridge. “Let’s back up,” Azusa suggested, shaking some feeling back into her foot as she stood up once more. “You know what you’re talking about when you say dating, right? More than friends. What we just did is what friends do all the time. Hanging out, talking, even the hugging, I suppose. I don’t see what you’re trying to get out of this.”

Fervent nodding almost gave Yui a crick in her neck. “I’m serious, Azu-nyan. I mean, it’s not like I understand everything, but I want to be close to you. It’s not just today, though today was great. Hanging out with just you makes me just as happy as hanging out with everyone combined and more. It’s been like that for a while, I just haven’t thought about it seriously until now. I don’t know exactly what kind of love that is, but I want to find out. I want to be able to make you as happy as you make me, Azu-nyan.”

The answer failed to eradicate Azusa’s frown as she listened to her senpai’s plea. “Well, that’s a start, for someone like you,” Azusa mused to herself, slinging her school bag onto her shoulder. “But you have to think about the future, senpai. What you’re proposing-“

“I am!” Yui shouted, stamping her foot on the ground. “Azu-nyan, I’ve done nothing but think about the future since the festival! No, it was before that. This has been on my mind since I realized we can’t stay together forever, and nothing I tried could get me to stop thinking about it. The only thing that’s helped has been being honest with myself about what I want, about who I am to you all. I’m supposed to know what I’m doing with my life in the next few months, and I can’t even wake up in time to get dressed and get to school without Ui’s help. My own parents don’t think I’m mature enough to decide my own career path. The people I care about the most are going to be gone after March, Azu-nyan. I just want a future where things can stay the way they are forever, where I can be with you and the others in a band. If that’s wrong, then fate is doing things wrong.” The world was wholly uninterested in Yui’s reckless accusation, purples and lavenders beginning to overtake the more violent reds and oranges as the sky’s color changed despite her input.

Tilting her head a little, Azusa’s face contorted with worry. “There’s nothing we can do about fate, senpai. We have to play with the cards we were dealt. If it means anything, you handled the last part of yesterday really well. I know you can grow up and be mature when you need to, even if you don’t want to. The core of this problem is that you’re all graduating and I’m not. We have to accept that that’s where this discussion should start and end.” At Azusa’s claim, the streetlights flickered on around the girls, evidently set to some sort of timer rather than the amount of light present.

Getting caught in the brilliant shower of light had a sobering effect on Yui. The blazing fires raging under her began to douse themselves, returning to normal flower fields. Azusa herself continued to shine, bathed in fluorescent light like an angel without wings. Yui was awed. From her perspective, it was as if all the confusing sounds, sights and smells had coagulated and contained themselves in the girl in front of her. _Why does it feel like I’ll explode if I try to get close? I’m losing focus. Think, Yui! Azu-nyan has to be wrong! _“Why wouldn’t you want to at least try, Azu-nyan? Have I really been making you suffer like Jun-chan said? I promise you, I’m serious about this! I can change if you want me to!” Resisting the urge to continue her pleading, Yui settled for squeezing the life out of her guitar straps.

Swept backwards momentarily by Yui’s passion, Azusa started, only to recover quickly with a cough. “You haven’t made me suffer the way Jun-chan means, senpai. She’s upset for, um, other reasons, I think. I’ve deeply enjoyed my time with you all, and I’d like to explore potential options for the future after my graduation, but we all need to be on the same page for that to work. I overheard you talking about your college plans a few days ago, you know.”

Thinking back, Yui wasn’t all that surprised. She didn’t know why Azusa had chosen to eavesdrop rather than come talk to them, but the question hardly mattered at the moment. “What about it?” she wondered aloud, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in a mix of anticipation and worry.

Turning away, Azusa made her face impossible to see as she leaned on her arms on the railing facing the river. “You don’t have any real college plans. You’re just going with what the others say, and they made it clear yesterday that they haven’t figured out what to do. That worries me.” Noting the crestfallen look on her senpai’s face, Azusa backpedaled swiftly. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t figure it out. I know you’ll all work something out. What I’m saying is that we don’t have a solution that involves me and you being together next year, so I can’t do what you’re asking me to do for you. Again, I’m sorry, really, but I can’t, even if I was insane enough to want to.” Realizing how she was coming off, Azusa’s head sank a little, her pigtails drooping like impotent fishing lines towards the water.

“But that’s why we need to be together more than ever, Azu-nyan! I can’t do anything without all of your help. Besides, this shouldn’t have anything to do with the band. This is between you and me, isn’t it?” Yui took a step forward, bringing the distance between the two to less than a meter and making Azusa’s pensive expression visible once more. “I have to be honest to move forward, Azu-nyan. For a while now, I’ve wanted us to be more than just friends or bandmates. It just took me a long time to figure that out. I’m not very smart, eheh.” The poor attempt at self-deprecation did nothing for the mood.

Azusa averted her eyes once more, her voice beginning to catch as it betrayed her wavering resolve. “Yui-senpai, I know. I know, damn it. Everyone has known forever, and I kept putting off addressing it, ignoring it even, because I didn’t want to have to tell you the truth in person. I was ignorant, but I can’t ignore this any longer. I told you you were strong, so I have to prove it.” When Azusa met her senpai’s adamant gaze once more, she had burned away the still forming tears in her eyes with the fire stolen from her surroundings. “Yui, I can’t be your girlfriend.” There was obviously a sentence meant to follow that one, but Azusa’s words got caught in her throat, as if her own body was rejecting her actions even after the damage had been done.

Yui blinked, the meaning not quite sinking in right away. In all of her musings over the situation, the word girlfriend hadn’t really come up. _But __that’s what I’m asking of her, isn’t it? Mugi-chan might have called it that at some point. It wouldn’t make sense to call her my boyfriend, I suppose. _“Why?” Yui asked, the calm way she received the rejection taking her by surprise.

“I have a list, but I’ll keep it short,” Azusa explained with none of the usual bite to her tone she reserved for educating her senpai. “For one, you’re my senpai, I’m your kouhai. If we aren’t that, then I don’t know what we are. I can call you Yui all you want, you’re never not going to be my senpai to me. I don’t want to pretend our time as a band together doesn’t matter here, because that’s what my best memories of us together are of. There’s no way that I can separate the lazy, lovable, savant guitar playing senpai I know and Yui. My personal feelings on the matter don’t have any bearing on the facts. No matter what, you’re leaving me behind in March. There’s no place for romance on the path to success, especially as a musician, and I really believe we could be a success. I want to make a name for myself, to be good enough to play the music we play for stadiums, not auditoriums, and I can’t do that with HTT if you’re going to put me in front of them. I’m not good at empathy, or all the other things you need to have a healthy relationship. It’s hard enough planning and keeping up with myself and what I want to do, so doing it for two people is impossible for me right now. Don’t even get me started on your personality quirks.” As Azusa listed reason after reason on her fingers, Yui could feel her head beginning to spin, for once not because of confusion.

Noticing her senpai’s state of duress, Azusa ended her tangent, shivering a little as a wild gust of wind passed the girls by. The flowers beneath them waved goodbye to the sun, now dangerously close to having fully disappeared. “Hold on,” Yui begged, still trying to keep up as her brain threatened a mutiny. “What about college? We talked about going to the same college with Mio-chan and the others, didn’t we? Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

“Did you see how that went yesterday?” Azusa retorted, slightly bitterly. “I’d like to clean that up too, but I need your help, as my bandmate. None of us can do this by ourselves. That’s how it’s always been.”

The kouhai offered her senpai a hand as she continued. “It’s not what you want, I know, and it kills me to not be able to give you what you really want, but at least let me ensure that HTT and the Light Music Club is survived after this school year ends. It’s the least I can do for you all.”

Yui stared at her kouhai’s hand like she didn’t know who it belonged to. It was only as Azusa’s fingers started to recoil themselves that Yui seized the hand with both of her own, unwilling to let it out of her grasp. She held the younger girl’s hand hostage in between her palms, as if she’d disappear when she was released. “I don’t understand,” Yui whispered, fighting off tears. “I did everything the way I was supposed to. The bad feelings should go away when I open up about how I’m feeling, Azu-nyan. Why does it hurt so much right now?”

Feeling the younger girl’s frigid hand tighten around her own, Azusa sighed. “I’m sorry, senpai. If I had nipped this in the bud sooner, I might have prevented this. The truth is, people our age shouldn’t be concerning themselves with frivolous things like romance. Like I said, there’s nothing to be gained from it that we don’t have already. We should focus on the band and enjoying school life while we can.” The physical bond between Yui and Azusa was the only thing holding Yui up as each word shoved her further and further into a dark hole that she couldn’t see the bottom of. “I know you can be strong when you need to be. Yesterday, during your meeting, the party, at our performances…” Azusa’s words were cut off in a wince as Yui squeezed her hand a bit too hard.

“How do you know everything?!” Yui argued pitifully. “How do you know it’s not worth it if you haven’t tried it? All I want is a chance. I don’t understand. Help me, Azu-nyan. Help me understand.” The request bordered on absurd, but Yui had passed the point of rationality several passing cars ago.

Another breeze nudged the two a bit closer together. Yui’s wary expression met Azusa’s dejected one under the twinkling of the night’s first stars. “You know damn well you want more than that, senpai. But I can’t do it. I can’t be the person you want me to be. I’m just your kouhai, and I’m wasn’t even able to say that properly to your face until now. I don’t deserve to be around people like you all. I’ve done nothing to earn that privilege, and yet I don’t want to lose it. I’m not okay with that. Please, don’t hate me for this.” Azusa dislodged her hand from Yui’s protective grip, placing it gingerly in her pocket.

It was in this moment that Yui began to understand what Jun actually meant, what all of her friends had been getting at for the last few days, or even weeks. Noting the tears beginning to form on her kouhai once more, Yui instinctively moved to wipe them away with her hand. Azusa flinched, but didn’t resist Yui’s assistance. _She’s suffering because of me. Because I’m expecting too much of her? Well that’s dumb! Azu-nyan is good enough! If she can’t see that, I’ll make her see it. _“I told you you were good enough, Azu-nyan. Don’t you believe me?”

“How could I?” Azusa countered, drying her own eyes. “It’s not about me, damn it! We have to think about our futures! If you hadn’t singled me out, none of this would even be happening. You treat me like I’m special when I’m not. You’re only making things harder on yourselves and the others by sticking with me. If you factor out feelings, the right answer is blatantly obvious here. I’m not allowed to feel the way you do, senpai, so leave it at that. Show me the strength I know you have.”

Azusa’s cutting words tore at Yui’s heart. _Factor out? What is she talking about? I thought this was supposed to be an all emotions decision. It doesn’t matter. I was wrong. Azusa suffered because of me. I’ve failed her time and time again, but this is the worst. Everyone’s fighting, and Azusa doesn’t like me, and I-I-I _Yui’s mind finally short circuited, having overdrawn what little energy remained available to her as she attempted and failed to find a positive in her current situation.

Autopilot took over for Yui, pulling her towards her kouhai and energy. Azusa accepted the embrace without question, but there was no energy exchanged. As Yui struggled to find the power Azusa spoke of, she felt like she was trying to fill a colander with water. “I’m so tired, Azusa,” Yui whispered into her kouhai’s ear. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve done nothing but foist my problems on you and the others since the festival. I thought you really wanted what I did, so I guess I foisted that on you too. I’m sorry I don’t know what to say to make you understand how I feel. I’m sorry I hurt everyone, including you. I just wanted, ah, wanted… wanted…” Yui felt her eyelids begin to droop.

The stress of the situation began to demand its toll from Yui all at once, her overexcited nerves shutting down in droves as she sank deeper into her kouhai’s arms. “Senpai?” Azusa asked, panic edging into her tone. “Are you okay? Yui-senpai?”

Yui knew she should probably stay awake for Azusa’s sake, but she couldn’t seem to muster the energy necessary to do so. Her vision began to look as dark as the night sky, her grip loosening as her body was sapped of strength. Everything was darker when her friends weren’t around, and knowing that there was nothing she could do only made things get darker faster. As Yui teetered on the brink of consciousness, she became aware of another familiar presence arriving, removing her from her kouhai and supporting her with her shoulders. Had she the energy to do so, Yui would have protested this, but all she could manage was a groggy groan of discontent. “Just relax, Onee-chan,” came a voice from somewhere close to Yui. “I’ll take care of things from here.”

* * *

**November 16th, Nighttime at the Nakano Household**

Takumi Nakano placed his now empty glass on the coaster in front of him. He had a bad habit of getting to the bottom of a drink before he ever came close to getting to the bottom of the problem he was supposed to be solving over it. Shifting his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he leaned back on his living room couch. “I need another drink,” he told the ceiling. “Rin, I need another drink.”

“The kitchen is that way,” Mrs. Nakano helpfully responded from a nearby chair with a point towards the hallway. “Go get me one while you’re up.”

“So you can steal the couch while I’m gone?” the father accused playfully. “I think not. This couch is the only sanctuary I have after work.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, dear,” Rin scoffed. “We’re here to talk, not drink. I’m sure Azusa’s asleep by now. Poor thing could barely stand when she got home.”

Mr. Nakano sat up on the black couch, noting with discontent the stale nature of the air around him. “We should be here to dust. Has it been that long since we’ve had guests?”

Mrs. Nakano shrugged. “I hate dusting, and anyone who’s rude enough to comment on it isn’t worth our time.” For a moment, that statement hung proudly in the air, long enough for Mr. Nakano to shoot a doubtful glare at his wife. “Okay, fine, I got lazy since we don’t have anything scheduled this month. Sue me later.”

Picking up his glass once more, Takumi swirled the lonely ice cubes around a few times while inspecting the bottom of the glass. “It surprised me when you said something was wrong with Azusa. I was under the impression that nothing could shake her anymore.” His glasses obscured his eyes from his wife. “Between our riveting family dinners and her living in her room, I was concerned we had started building a robot instead of a human.”

For a moment, Rin failed to respond. Takumi eyed his wife curiously, who was leaning back in her chair that wouldn’t be out of place in a therapist’s office. “I don’t know. Honestly, it’s probably nothing, just growing pains. I don’t want to add to your concerns when you should be focused on work.”

The wishy-washy answer bugged the man. He rose from his seat, taking his empty glass with him. “Don’t doubt yourself, Rin. If something happened, I need to know. It’s a rare opportunity for us to play the good cops in her life.”

Rin blinked a few times, taking in her husband’s profile against the too-bright ceiling lights. “Ah, yes, right. Sorry.” She took a breath to compose her story. “Azusa came home in tears earlier, never mind how late it was. She hasn’t done that since elementary school when the other kids made fun of her hair. Hell, she’s barely even smiled since we moved, necessary as the change was. I’m assuming she had a falling out with a friend, but it’s hard to tell. She didn’t give me much to work with.”

“Whose fault is that?” Takumi rhetorically asked. “Days like today happen. It’s not a bad thing for her to get emotional once in a while. I’d almost welcome it. It’d make the house feel alive again, you know?” He tightened his grip on the glass.

Rin sat up, placing her hands on her lap over her dress. Her expression conveyed a repressed longing that she shared with the man in front of her, but she didn’t voice it aloud. “It takes money to live,” she reminded them both. “Self-control is more important than anything else, especially for girls her age. It’ll throw a wrench in things if she has a falling out with her band now.” Downing the last of her drink, Rin swallowed an ice cube to wash it down while Mr. Nakano gagged at the display.

Around his induced choking, Mr. Nakano managed to set his glass down on his guitar display case. “That’s gross. Water isn’t supposed to go down like that.” When Rin responded by crunching on the ice cube loudly, he covered his ears and apologized profusely. “Alright, I get it, I get it. Anyways, it might not be related to her band. Maybe it’s boy trouble? She would just tell us if it was grades, since she knows we’d find out eventually.”

“I’m fairly certain she doesn’t know any boys besides you and her teachers, thankfully,” Rin countered, running out of ice cubes. “She knows very well what’ll happen if she gets involved with a guy like that now. It’s definitely the band.”

Stroking the wayward patches of stubble on his chin, Takumi nodded to himself. “Hm. The band,” he parroted, a nostalgic smile coming to him as he glanced to his old guitar. “I do wish I could have heard them play last month. Azusa deserves to have something she enjoys while she’s getting ready for college. What was their band’s name again?”

Rin tilted her head upwards as she thought about the question. Mr. Nakano passed the time attempting to will his drink to refill itself, leaning on his hands on the display case. Somehow, it didn’t work. “HTT, if I remember correctly. They’re supposed to be pretty famous among the student body,” Rin supplied. “But Azusa’s the only junior in the group. I have to imagine they’re close to disbanding, if they haven’t already.”

A frown replaced Takumi’s expression. “Ah. That’s a shame. I hope she doesn’t quit playing over that.”

“We haven’t set the best example,” Rin pointed out, motioning to her own guitar. “But everyone has to put their toys away eventually.”

“Touché. She’ll find what she wants to do before long. At least she still leans on you occasionally. I’m lucky to see her outside of Sundays.” the husband muttered, running a hand through a black mop of hair, one of the few remnants of his past appearance he insisted on maintaining. “So what’s the play? Where does this leave us with the plan?”

Rising from her seat, Rin crossed the room to lean on the display case next to her husband. “She’ll understand, sooner rather than later, I hope,” she reassured her husband. “I know how hard you’re working for all of us. Nothing about the plan has changed. I’m aiming for the 19th.”

Mr. Nakano whistled appreciatively. “We’d be dead without you, you know that? So it’s the real Kotobuki?”

“Mhm,” Mrs. Nakano confirmed. “Hirasawa too. I was more than a bit shocked that they found each other. If we’re going to take advantage of this, we need to act swiftly. I can’t believe in all this time she never mentioned their last names. I should have realized this a long time ago.”

Sighing, Mr. Nakano put an arm around his wife. “Chalk it up to bad luck. It’s not your fault for doing what you had to do to secure her future. We can’t rely on handouts forever.” Saying the words out loud caused the man’s shoulders to droop. “God, I sound like my dad. I’m becoming boring. Rin, help.” He squeezed her shoulder a little.

“Baka,” Rin scoffed, leaning in a little closer. “Don’t make me nostalgic. It’s bad for my health. I need to be on top of my game right now.”

“We could always pop these cases open,” Mr. Nakano suggested, patting the display case with his free hand. “One more time couldn’t hurt.”

Pulling away, Rin punched Takumi’s arm lightly. “You sound like a drug addict. If I let you take that thing out you’ll never put it back. Have you forgotten last time already?”

The room’s mood was instantly somber. Takumi stood up fully, wandering over to inspect the wall of albums on the far side of the room. “Nope,” he admitted, eyes downcast. “I’m sure Azusa hasn’t either.”

Thumbing through various albums, his own included, allowed Takumi to focus on any moment except the one he was in. Simply touching a record elicited the happier moments from when it was last played, his browsing through memories only interrupted by his wife’s voice pulling him into reality. “We’re allowed to change. If we don’t try, things won’t improve. If the dinner goes well, maybe we’ll be able to change too,”

Smirking, Mr. Nakano turned back to his wife. Rin was still by the display case, running a finger over the glass as if she was strumming the strings. If Mr. Nakano closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he heard something. “Even if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t mind giving things another shot with Azusa,” he decided. “As long as she understands what she needs to do to succeed, there’s no harm in us acting like her parents.”

“We are her parents, baka,” Rin reminded the man. “But you’re right. We can’t put all our stock in any one gambit. The best we can do for her now is start teaching her how the world really works, and if we’re lucky, she’ll come out of it without too many scars.”

Feeling more like he was discussing training an infantry soldier than raising a child, Mr. Nakano frowned. “I know you’re right, but it still bothers me. It’s not fair that being the people we want to be screws her over.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Rin agreed. “You have to make sacrifices to get what you want sometimes. At the end of the day, there’s some things you can’t do in life if you want to be happy. So if we can stack the deck in her favor, we will. That’s what we agreed upon, isn’t it?”

Walking up to his wife, Mr. Nakano planted a peck on her rosy cheek. He moved past her as she smiled softly at him, picking up his empty glass once more. “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, starting for the door. “Let’s get to sleep. I’ll catch hell if I don’t have things running like normal tomorrow.”


	17. Friends!

**November 17th, 74 Minutes Before School Starts **

Very few things had the ability to fluster Ui Hirasawa, but her sister and her often hazardous exploits occupied nearly every spot on the top of her list. Even so, life with the dilatory airhead had conditioned the younger sister to be more familiar with Murphey’s Law than most. She had adapted flawlessly this morning when her sister happened to wake up an hour early, having already been up for half an hour cleaning. When Yui had insisted that she get to school as soon as possible, Ui was ready with an emergency 3-minute prep time breakfast the two could eat on the road together. Not even a sudden rainstorm the weatherman had sworn up and down wouldn’t blow in until tomorrow could faze Ui, who was sharing an umbrella with her sister before the third raindrop could fall. No amount of preplanning was useful, however, in telling her why her sister was behaving so aberrantly. That she wasn’t a pitiful lump on the floor of her room nursing her broken heart was a fact Ui was infinitely grateful for, but this alternative of failing to even acknowledge anything had happened caused equal amounts of discord within the younger sister. Worse, she was unintentionally denied the chance to ask any questions by Yui’s guitar, or rather Yui forgetting to bring her guitar with her. Despite being halfway to school already, volunteering to sprint home to retrieve and store Giita in the clubroom had been the natural next step for Ui. The only downside to her charitable act was that it left her an abundance of time she didn’t want to overanalyze her sister’s actions. _Nothing that’s happened since last night hasn’t happened before. I’ve been over this. Onee-chan can’t be heartbroken, therefore I have no need for concern. Everything is working out for the best. I have to stop thinking about it. My only job is to support Onee-chan. _By all accounts, the trepidation that chased Ui’s footprints and tried to drag her away from the clubroom was unfounded, no matter how insistently the anxiety tugging at her heels pulled as she approached her destination.

Uprooting her blossoming concerns with a shake of her head, Ui pushed open the clubroom door gingerly. She was so early that the lights hadn’t even been turned on, leaving the room inundated in a muted grey bath of sunlight from the rain-battered windows. A girl and a guitar poked their heads through the slit they had created in the boundary between the girl’s world and her sister’s world. The girl’s wary apology for her intrusion was uttered for no human that she or the blind sentinel on her back could detect. It was as if Ui was looking into the bedroom of a missing child that the parents had maintained in pristine condition fervently for years, riding on the farfetched hope that their baby would still return someday. Were it not for Ton, Ui might have wondered if she was in the right room. _It’s so different when nobody is here. I guess whatever Onee-chan needed to do wasn’t in the clubroom. That makes my job easier._

Satisfied that she was alone, Ui permitted herself full entry into the clubroom, excuses she no longer needed leaving her taxed mind for the moment. If nobody was home, she could accomplish her task without having to field questions to cover up her sister’s ineptitude. “I hope whatever you needed to be here so early for was worth it, Onee-chan,” Ui told the vacant room as she hunted for a suitable place to park Giita.

The unaccommodating clubroom didn’t have any apparent storage location that would be easily accessible to Yui without begging to be nicked by the first desperate student that happened to be in need of a Les Paul. Ui found herself setting the guitar down in several different locations, only to instantly pick it up again indecisively. The weight she bore on her back grew exponentially with each failed attempt, compounding her desire to finish her job and flee the scene. Ton looked on, probably bemused at Ui’s dilemma as she abandoned discretion for efficacy. The wooden floor complained under her crimson-tipped shoes, Ui’s stress imprinted on them with every tread and retread she passed down. Ui fully realized that she probably looked inane, that anywhere she chose to discharge Yui’s instrument would be sufficient, but the tantalizing idea of an optimal solution bid Ui continue to search. The second time she set the guitar case down next to Ton’s tank, shielded from view without being too out of the way, Ui accepted that she wasn’t going to find a much better location. Noticing that her chosen corner of the room was colder than the main body, Ui shivered slightly, drawing her arms around herself. _Is Ton-chan comfortable living like this? _Catching herself staring with concern at the turtle, Ui stood up straight, refocusing on Giita one more time to confirm the completion of her task.

Had she set Giita in this spot the first time, Ui would have been able to leave the room with only Giita as proof that she was there. Tragically, her dallying caught up to her right as she began to leave. Artificial light invaded Ui’s vision, showering down on her from all directions and making her wish she could open her umbrella again. Drenched in visibility, Ui met the blue eyes of the one who had foiled her gambit at anonymity. “Yui-chan… no, Ui-chan?” echoed a mellifluous voice from the doorway.

“Ah, hello, Mugi-senpai, it’s me,” Ui conceded, swaying left and right from her spot behind the couch as she searched for a comfortable way to explain her intrusion. “I don’t mean to intrude. I was just bringing Giita to the clubroom for Onee-chan. I’ll be going now.”

“H-hold on!” Tsumugi stuttered as Ui made a play for the door, using the 17-kilogram keyboard slung over her shoulder as a tool to block the younger sister’s path. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for some tea? I’d been hoping to speak with you about some things, actually, so if you don’t mind…” There was hesitation, concern even shrouded within Tsumugi’s invitation, but the interest sparkling in her eyes was strong enough to keep her firmly rooted between Ui and her own objective.

Ui hesitated, seconds wasting away as no excuse to allow her safe passage through the door came to her. Tsumugi, despite having appeared at the clubroom far sooner than she would ever reasonably need to, was visibly out of breath, like she’d taken a lap around the school grounds before coming to the clubroom. Her chest rose and fell in an irregular pattern that indicated exhaustion, yet she maintained a perfectly firm hold on both her heavy keyboard and school bag like they were coin purses. Blinking a few times to force herself to stop staring dumbly at her senior, Ui ran through the facts she had available to her. Tsumugi’s intent was no mystery to Ui, but the desire to respect her sister’s privacy stayed her tongue from answering Tsumugi’s unasked question immediately. _This is too soon, isn’t it? She shouldn’t hear this from me, but if I don’t tell her, she’ll probably hound Onee-chan for information all morning until something goes wrong. Maybe I should just bite the bullet on this one, for Onee-chan’s sake. _

“I know what you want me to tell you, Mugi-senpai,” Ui started, prompting the heiress to lean in closer, sapphire colored eyes gleaming. “But I’m sorry, I don’t have good news. Azusa-chan rejected Onee-chan yesterday. They didn’t get together.” Traitorously, Ui’s lips attempted to curve into a smile at that reveal, and she fought for even a fleeting amount of control over her emotions.

Tsumugi’s keyboard strap sagged on her shoulder, as if she had just realized how heavy it was. The slightly overbearing enthusiasm left her expression, replaced with something Ui couldn’t hope to identify. Awkward air fermented between the girls as time passed silently. “Oh. I see,” Tsumugi murmured, downcast. “That’s unfortunate to hear.”

Callous as it was to abandon the heiress now, Ui wasn’t mentally prepared to assist Tsumugi in sifting through the debris of her shattered delusions. She began to edge her way towards the door, around the oversized keyboard in her way. “Well, I should get to class, so, well, I suppose I’ll see you lat-” A hand clutched Ui’s sleeve, bidding her to remain.

“Ne, I know it’s impolite of me to make a request like this, but would you mind staying with me, just for a bit?” Tsumugi implored, her tone wavering between detached request and impassioned plea. “Tea is better with friends, after all.”

Had Ui not felt partially responsible for Tsumugi’s current situation, she’d have rejected the senior outright. She was already in foreign territory having the girl who swapped between threatening her and apologizing to her on a whim request her company. At least when Tsumugi was making her antsy with just the inflection of her voice, she knew where the blonde’s head was at. _Jun-chan would say something here about how Mugi-senpai and I sound the same when we’re trying to get what we want.__ I should tell her that’s wrong. _Tabling the unnecessary plan for later, Ui focused on the piteous guilt thwarting her attempts to leave the room. _I would stay for Azusa-chan or Jun-chan. Just because Mugi-senpai was wrong about Onee-chan doesn’t mean she’s not a person. If I can do something to help that doesn’t harm Onee-chan, I should. _With a small nod, Ui retreated towards the clubroom table, detaching herself from the senior.

Taciturn was the entire process of preparing and serving tea for both students. The fragrance of fresh tea brought color back to the room, the steam rising from two cups like the first shoots of grass pushing up through the soil after a long winter. Ui hadn’t realized how therapeutic the effects of tea preparation could be, her concerns melting away as she completely immersed herself in her work. It helped that Tsumugi made an excellent partner. Just through their cooperation at the party, the two had already learned each other’s work habits and developed a sort of synergy that would draw the envy of any career team of butlers. Ui wanted to believe this was due to Tsumugi’s experience working with Yui, but she knew better than to assume her sister was willing or able to help with anything involving manual labor. The real reason wasn’t that important anyways. Tsumugi also appeared to be impacted by the shift in mood of the room, smiling pleasantly to herself as the two took adjacent seats at the table. It was as Ui lifted her teacup from her sister’s seat gingerly that it occurred to her that she had no idea what she was supposed to be saying to the heiress. Tsumugi attempted to lift her own cup with her bandaged hand, only to flinch and quickly snatch it up with her other hand, sighing. Ui eyed the wrappings incredulously. _How didn’t I notice those before? They didn’t seem to bother her while she was making the tea. _Ui took a sip of her tea, tasting nothing with all of her senses unwittingly trained on her company. “How’s your hand?” she blurted out, courtesy losing the battle with the younger girl’s intrigue.

Several seconds passed before Tsumugi acknowledged the brunette. When she did, setting her teacup down, she appeared to be looking at some point far beyond where Ui was seated. It was as if she had forgotten Ui was there, was lost in a daydream, or both. “My hand is healing quite well, fortunately,” she reassured with a small smile. “The doctor said the lacerations weren’t deep enough to mar anything important. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be able to play or practice for a while. I merely brought my keyboard here for storage purposes until the hand is healed.” Both girls glanced at the storage room where Tsumugi’s keyboard and Giita had collectively ended up.

“That’s a shame about playing,” Ui noted. “At least it doesn’t sound too serious. I hope you feel better soon.” Hundreds of useless conversation topics flooded Ui’s mind, drowning her in thought before she could even try to pluck something from the list.

The gap of silence only became more pronounced as the two girls found anything to do but drink tea and chat, avoiding each other’s gaze. For Ui, the silence in such times was an uncharted wilderness that anyone who ate nearly every meal with Yui Hirasawa would be woefully unprepared to handle. _She’s so… calm. I can tell she’s really upset, that she wants me to tell her all the details, but she hasn’t even tried to ask. Onee-chan would have been wailing on the floor about her band by now if this was her. That’s what I’ve been waiting for her to do since she woke up. But instead of doing that, I’m here, when Onee-chan might need me. _As irritation over that fact began to spike within Ui, she took a second to relax herself. _No. There are other people out there besides Onee-chan. As long as it doesn’t hurt her, this is fine. There’s nothing Mugi-senpai can do at this point, anyways. It’s over, so I should be her friend. If only I wasn’t terrible at comforting people. Where are you when I need you, Onee-chan?_

When Ui caught Tsumugi’s eye, the heiress looked away, blushing. Ui tilted her head in an unasked question, setting her nearly full teacup aside. Tsumugi remained somewhat bashful, but went ahead and responded. “My apologies, I was just thinking about how you reminded me of an old friend of mine,” she admitted, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

“Oh? How so?” came Ui’s immediate response, adamantly clinging onto anything to move away from the conversation hole the two found themselves in.

Tsumugi sat up in her seat with the propriety of someone befitting her social status, nostalgically observing Ton. “Well, we used to spend all of our time together, drinking tea, reading, playing music, getting into mischief. She and I were like sisters. Just having her around made every day better, worth waking up for. I felt like I could tell her anything.” The heiress’ features hardened. “It was because of that fact that I lost her.”

There was no way Ui could come up with an excuse to leave at this point, so she settled for a sip of her flat tea. “Because of that?” she parroted, hoping Tsumugi wasn’t counting on her to contribute to someone else’s anecdote.

The heiress started, jolting herself back to the present moment. “Oh, my apologies. Never mind my reminiscence. My point is that family is a precious commodity to me, Ui-chan. If I lost any of my bandmates because of my actions… Ne, do you think pushing Azusa-chan and Yui-chan together is the right thing to do?” Tsumugi inquired, leaning forward aggressively once more in her chair to put her face centimeters from Ui’s. “I know what you said at the party, but I want you to be honest with me, please. There’s nothing either of us can do at this point anyways, right?”

Unprepared, Ui scooted back half a meter, her chair grinding harshly against the floor. Noticing this, Tsumugi reined herself in, but left the question hanging between them. The conversation Tsumugi was referring to had nearly taken a year off of Ui’s life. During the party, while preparing tea for Sawako, Ui had felt an intractable urge to tell somebody about her theft of Yui’s final picture, and Tsumugi was the only outlet available. Tsumugi had been what Ui assumed was enraged for a moment, but the pleasant manner she treated her junior with following this was arguably more unnerving. Ui felt like she had been shown a glimpse of a monster that Tsumugi only barely managed to contain, one the heiress reserved for those who dared to mess with her designated family. _But I can’t be a pushover either, not if I want to get what I want. I told her I’m not just going to blindly go along with her ideas. Mugi-senpai knows that, so why is she asking me? By Onee-chan’s definition, we’re both doing the right thing, right? _“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ui stalled, her normally reliable processing power lagging the way it did when presented with a novel challenge she couldn’t easily adapt to.

Tsumugi rose, taking care to place her hand on the table a good distance away from her teacup. “Let’s not pretend here, Ui-chan. All I want is for us to be happy together. Everything I’ve done has been to meet that end. But if Azusa-chan really rejected Yui-chan, perhaps I’ve terribly misjudged things. I’m not so fixated on my goal that I can’t admit when a change of tactics might be necessary. Perhaps Ricchan truly does abhor the idea of continuing to function as a band with us in college, and I’ve only ruined things for her and the others.” The heiress began to pace back and forth like a wandering specter, losing herself in her speech as she drifted towards the whiteboard. “We all love how things are, so I thought I understood what should come next, like the way one note should be played after another. But I can’t give up, even if I have messed up. I won’t give up, because I’m strong. I’m Tsumugi Kotobuki. I’m strong. I bear the Kotobuki name, so I’m strong. And yet my family is disappearing again.” Tsumugi’s pace lagged as she left her own conversation behind, her good hand finding the whiteboard for support.

Ui stood up after her senior, her mind searching for a way to draw Tsumugi back into reality rather than taking the opportunity to leave. Tsumugi’s enigmatic smile contradicted the waves of sorrow emanating from her presence. The waves rose and broke against the walls of the clubroom, Tsumugi standing safely at ground zero while Ui struggled to avoid being tossed about by her sister’s friend’s melancholy. _This is how she feels? What could have possibly happened to cause her to fear failing this much? I-Is this what would happen to me if I lost Onee-chan? _The possibility was so terrifyingly real to the younger Hirasawa that Tsumugi glanced up sharply, as if she was really noticing Ui’s presence for the first time.

“If what you said last week is still true, then we share the same end goal,” Ui responded to Tsumugi’s look, hoping she was choosing the right words to cheer the heiress up. “Everyone makes mistakes though. You’re not wrong for messing up, Mugi-senpai.”

Realizing that her host didn’t agree as Tsumugi didn’t respond, Ui racked her mind for another approach. _Come on, Ui. That argument wouldn’t have even worked on you. I have to say something else. Mou, how do I keep ending up in these situations? I can’t allow her to continue misdirecting Onee-chan. _Making her way over to the brooding heiress, Ui placed a hand awkwardly on her shoulder.

Tsumugi didn’t reject Ui’s advance, nor did she accept it. Ui had touched a statue, a portrait of Tsumugi cut out of time the very second Ui touched her. Realizing she couldn’t back down without saying anything, Ui let out what she hoped was a calming smile. “We all make mistakes. It’s hard to admit it, but that’s the first step towards fixing things, ne? Don’t let this failure get you down. You’re not wrong for wanting to be their friend, Mugi-senpai. Just…” Ui found herself unable to emulate the same type of forewarning message Tsumugi had used on her nearly a week ago, allowing her encouragement to reach the heiress undiluted.

The support came off as hollow to Ui, but Tsumugi’s eyes quickly lit up as time began to move again. “You really think so? No, you’re right, Ui-chan. I can still make this right! There must be something I overlooked that caused Azusa-chan to react like that! Ricchan too! I just have to keep trying! I won’t get it wrong this time! Things cannot end like this.” In the wake of Tsumugi’s about face, Ui found her free hand clenching at how easily Tsumugi let her regret go.

Here in front of Ui was the girl who had caused her sister all the grief she knew Yui was withholding from her failure with Azusa. Here was the heiress who tried to force her sister and her best friend into a relationship one of them didn’t want and the other didn’t understand. Here was the bully who had shoved her and Jun around for the past two weeks to achieve her goals. Ui didn’t get truly angry often. Mild irritation at her sister’s or Jun’s antics, sure, but real anger was generally beyond her. “No, Tsumugi-senpai, you fool,” Ui harshly reprimanded, ignoring the niceties she normally barred herself from discarding. “You don’t get my sister or Azusa-chan at all. They don’t want you to keep meddling with their affairs. If you want to stay with them, then do that. You don’t need to turn my life upside down to do that, got it?” Realizing she had adapted a death grip on Tsumugi’s shoulder, Ui released Yui’s friend quickly.

Tsumugi tilted her head, unaffected by Ui’s grip. “Are you sure it’s not your affairs you’re concerned that I’m meddling with?” she questioned innocently. “I suppose that means you really don’t want them to get to get together then. I had suspected as much, but I wasn’t certain one way or the other. Ne, how is what I’m doing any different from you stealing Yui’s present?”

Ui gulped down her next line, caught off guard by the fierce barrage of accusations from her adversary. “It’s different. I wouldn’t have done anything if you hadn’t done something. I was trying to say that what you’re doing is wrong. I wanted to say it from the beginning, but I didn’t, because I wasn’t sure myself. After talking with Onee-chan about it, though, I was certain. Friendship with Azusa-chan is best for her. If you can accept that like you said, then there’s no issue here.” Even on the back foot, Ui managed to balance her argument out enough to sound coherent, not missing a beat once she began to speak once more.

The conviction behind Ui’s claims piqued curiosity in her opponent. Interlocking her hands behind her back, Tsumugi offered Ui a reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hm. If I believed you, then I would easily accept that, Ui-chan. I know I’ve made some mistakes since the festival. Sometimes I have trouble controlling my emotions regarding these matters, but I don’t regret trying to get my friends to be honest about their feelings. Until they do that, I don’t want to give up just yet. I wanted you to help me make things right for HTT again, but I don’t think we really agree on how to go about things, ne?” The statement solidified the transformation in status between the two girls, each now completely aware of the other’s intent.

Mustering up the intimidation factor she was told she was famous for, Ui folded her arms. “Mugi-senpai, I told you that Onee-chan tried to confess yesterday and was rejected. There’s nothing left to reveal.”

Something in Ui’s soul ached as Tsumugi smiled understandingly at her. “How about this then: Tell me why Azusa-chan turned her phone off last night, and I’ll accept that you were right. Does that sound fair?”

It became very apparent to Ui that Tsumugi was closer to understanding the current situation than she gave her credit for. _She’s sharp. I can’t become complacent. _“How would I know? She forgot to charge it?”

Tsumugi’s enigmatic gaze found focus on her junior. She smiled softly and patted Ui on the head. “You’re a model little sister, Ui-chan. If Azusa-chan really tried to confess, I have to image you were there. It’s why I chose to confide my intentions to you in the first place, since you’d find out yourself eventually. Did you speak to Azusa-chan after school yesterday?”

Ui felt cornered, despite Tsumugi looking more amicable than she had since coming into the room. _Backing down now means letting Onee-chan go, though. There’s only one option._ “No,” she lied. “I found out what happened from Onee-chan. If Azusa-chan isn’t answering her phone, I don’t know why.”

Demanding her body control its urge to twitch nervously, Ui looked on as Tsumugi’s smile became distinctly somber. “Alright, Ui-chan,” she conceded. “I understand. We both can’t afford to lose the people we care about. They make us who we are, ne?”

An image of Yui holding Azusa desperately under a streetlight flashed in Ui’s mind. “Yes. What does that have to do with-”

“Then it’s settled,” Tsumugi declared decisively. “I should have seen your intent from the beginning, Ui-chan. You have my apologies. It would be nice if we could just sit down and have tea together again, but that can’t happen yet.” The resolute expression Tsumugi wore would have inspired Ui under different circumstances. “To be completely honest, I’m rather tired after everything that’s been going on. My tea breaks only get longer the fewer people come to them, but that’s all the more reason not to stop here. I’ll probably be here for a while still, so please give Yui-chan and Azusa-chan my best when you see them.”

It took Ui a moment to realize that their conversation had ended with that statement. Tsumugi had already begun to clean up the pair’s dishes, leaving nothing for Ui to do but stand there dumbly. “Right, I should be going,” she announced weakly, edging towards the door as she shouldered her bag. “Jun-chan and Azusa-chan will be waiting for me.”

Smiling warmly at Ui as she ran water over the pair’s teacups, Tsumugi gave her friend a wave. “Please be careful, Ui-chan. No matter what you might think, your actions can have just as much impact as your sister’s, perhaps more,” Tsumugi whispered, barely audible over the clamor of the sink. “It’s much harder to successfully put things together than it is to fall apart trying.”

As soon as the clubroom door closed, Ui began to breathe again, placing a hand on her chest to steady herself. Talking with Tsumugi was an endurance exercise Ui was terrible at. It was as if Tsumugi could read her soul as she spoke, and it didn’t help that she seemed to know exactly what Ui was trying so valiantly to hide. “I’m not wrong,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t be wrong. No matter what Mugi-senpai thinks or how much she believes in herself, she doesn’t have to be right because of that. I just need to focus on protecting Onee-chan.” Ignoring the concept of holding herself to her own logic, Ui started for hew classroom.

_Mugi-senpai is weird. I’m not like her. What I’m doing is right. I’d never question myself like she does because this is what’s best for Onee-chan. She’s not ready to grow up yet. Until she is, I’ll be the one to take care of both of us. The only thing Ui Hirasawa needs to be is a good little sister._

* * *

**November 17th, 12 Minutes Before School Starts**

“Good morning, Yamanaka-sensei.”

“Good morning, Tsukasa, Toshimi. Make sure you dry yourselves off before you go in!”

“Morning, sensei.”

“Good morning, Nobuyo. It’s nice to see you.”

“Ne, sensei, what are you looking at?”

“Hm? Ah, don’t worry about it. Ne, would you mind if I borrow your umbrella for a few minutes? I’ll have it back to you before the bell.”

“Sure, go ahead. I hope you find what you’re looking for!”

Taking the plain black umbrella in hand, Sawako mulled over the best way to approach her target. There had been little need to hunt her mark down, not since it had planted itself outside the school gate 15 minutes ago. From her self-assigned position at the front entrance of the school greeting students, she had a crystal-clear view of her quarry if one ignored the pouring rain. She hadn’t even needed an excuse to camp by the door. Contrary to a certain club president’s rumor mongering, Sawako relished the opportunity to interact personally with her students, to see them off at the end of the school day and welcome them as classes began. It was a perfect combination of her innate desire to be adored and to erase every modicum of the school rumor mill’s belief that she was anything but a refined, elegant young woman of a teacher. In short, all the proper conditions were lined up for her to make Ritsu Tainaka’s life hell. _Time’s running out, drummer girl. You might have saved me the trouble of hunting you down, but if you don’t get in here, I’ll drag you inside myself. _How Sawako had ended up holding the bag of her more eccentric club’s issues was beyond her, but she wasn’t about to let them get away with it unscathed. _If they think they can start fights and ditch class without hurting the reputation of their poor teacher and advisor, they’re sorely mistaken. I’ll show those brats._

The original plan of remaining more or less aloof to the teenage drama Sawako had had her fill of in high school had appeared bulletproof on first glance. As much as Sawako cared for her students, she drew the line at having anything to do with the dizzying quagmire that was their personal lives. Dealing with personal quirks was the most she was usually willing to tolerate or offer assistance with as a teacher, of which there were more than enough of to occupy her time. Chizuru Shima couldn’t handle stressful situations. Yoshimi Sunahara had a bad pranking habit that many of her classmates only embolden her in indulging in. Chika Nojima utterly refused to study for her exams. _And Ritsu Tainaka likes to run away from her problems, _Sawako noted, detecting movement by the school gate.

Ritsu was on the move, slinking forward under the presumed cover of several other groups of students. The dark green umbrella she had been using since arriving at the gate was closed to avoid drawing attention to herself. She had even removed her trademark yellow headband to mask her presence, which would have admittedly worked had Sawako not been watching for her so diligently. Waving pleasantly at the group of students as they passed, Sawako put on her sweetest tone as the drummer attempted to pass her homeroom teacher. “Tainaka-san, would you mind speaking with me for a minute?” she pleasantly requested.

The drummer froze up, causing the girl behind her to bump into her. Ignoring the scathing look she received, Ritsu rubbed the back of her head casually. “Yo, Sawa-chan! Good to see you! I’d love to stay and chat, but I have, ah, stuff to do. I think I hear Mio or Yui or Ton-chan calling me sooo- hey!” Ritsu protested as Sawako gabbed her arm and yanked her out of the stream of passing students.

“Come on, you. We need to have a chat,” she hissed through a faux smile.

Continuing to put on her front until she had dragged Ritsu over to the school founder statue, Sawako let the girl go, allowing her to stumble a few paces backwards into the building downpour. Taking the time to work out how to open her borrowed umbrella gave Ritsu the chance to become indignant with her treatment. “Jeez, who dumped you this week? It’s unhealthy to take out your heartbreak on others, you know.” There was already another set of waggish insults on the drummer’s lips, but Sawako silenced her by removing her glasses.

This act alone brought a bead of sweat to both Ritsu’s and the founder’s brow as Sawako took a deep breath, silently thanking her Death Devil persona for one of its rare useful moments. “You know, it’s funny,” Sawako scoffed, her eyes that of a starving viper’s. “When my students don’t show up to school, claiming to be sick, and I call home to find out if they’re okay, usually the parent tells me that their child is fine and will be back in a few days. Everyone’s happy. Of course, when I call your home, what do I find out? Oh, that’s right, you’re playing hooky and it’s somehow my job instead of your mother’s job to make sure you show up to school. If you hadn’t shown up today, I would have had to waste my whole morning hunting for you, you know that?”

“Well, I’m here,” Ritsu stated the obvious. “Sorry about all that, but I can’t do anything about the past. I’ll get the homework from someone. Can I just go to class? It’s raining out here, you know.”

The wind left Sawako’s sails. Of all the Light Music Club members, she could usually count on Ritsu to have enough backbone to handle her less professional side. “They’re worried about you,” the teacher pointed out, putting her glasses back on. “Frankly, I am too. It looks bad for me when my clubs get into fights. Do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing yesterday?”

As soon as Sawako stopped pushing, Ritsu took the opportunity to reconstruct her wall of bravado. “Dealing drugs,” she instantly responded, flashing a smile under the bangs partially obscuring her eyes. “You want some? I can hook you up if you have the cash.”

Sawako glowered at the child who probably couldn’t tell the difference between beer and vodka and sighed. “You’d be dead in a week in that business,” she confidently asserted. “Don’t you have a job here you should be dealing with first?”

“Eh?” Ritsu questioned, tilting her head backwards to put her headband back on. “What are you talking about? Do I owe you money or something?” Smoothing out her hair to reveal her reflective forehead, Ritsu began to fiddle with her own umbrella.

“Last time I checked, your clubroom was on fire,” Sawako reminded her student. “I was going to stay out of it, but when you ditch class and get people hurt, it becomes my problem. Just because Tsumugi covered for you doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook. You need to fix this, president.”

Cursing silently as her umbrella failed to open, Ritsu took a second to huff at Sawako’s order. “Gee, what a warm welcome. It’s all my fault then, is it? Pretending to care is a bad look for you, Sawa-chan. Just stay out of it until the others come to their senses.” The hidden threat to Sawako’s authority was clear to Sawako, and probably only her.

The showdown between student and teacher was starting to garner attention from the passing cavalcade of students, forcing Sawako to smile and wave them along while she considered what to do next. Ritsu smiled and waved too, which only served to befuddle onlookers into continuing to walk rather than stand out in the rain trying to figure out what was going on. Sawako crossed her arms over her yellow dress. _Ugh. Teenage girls. The damn world can’t revolve around all or any of you, you know that? No, calm, Sawako. Peaceful thoughts. Death metal, guitars, smashing guitars. You’re getting paid for this. _“Don’t be a delinquent if you don’t want to be treated like one,” Sawako chided. “I care enough about you morons to call you on your bull. You’re better than this. Mio and Yui can play the ingenuous card, but you can’t. It’s not a question of whose fault it is. You’re the band’s leader, aren’t you?”

The question elicited a resentful scoff from Ritsu. “That doesn’t matter,” the drummer insisted, kicking at the moistening dirt in frustration. “Everything’s screwed now. You said you know what’s going on, so you tell me Nakano hasn’t shattered Yui’s heart and probably her own in the process by now. Mugi’s probably still in romance fantasyland, and Mio’s acting more insane every day. Not to mention Mio… ah, whatever. You get the idea. It’s all screwed by now. I can’t do anything about it.” Ritsu’s shoulders sagged with an infuriating amount of placid complacency as she turned her head away towards the entrance.

Sawako took this opportunity to get in her student’s face. Any pretense of personal space Ritsu presumed she had was torn asunder as Sawako nearly touched noses with the drummer. The amorous nature of their proximity and sharing of an umbrella was offset by the malicious intent behind Sawako’s glasses. “Cut the crap, Tainaka. This is all high school romance bullshit for you and you know it. If you’re gonna predicate your friendships on who’s going out with who or who knows who likes who, they’re not friendships. Do me a favor and think about the future instead of the present for half a minute. Nothing you’re talking about is going to have any impact on your life after you leave this school. Do you understand? Everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be. I said it before and I’ll say it again: you need to get your priorities in order if you truly care about this band, got it?”

As Sawako watched Ritsu flounder for a response, she began to question her own actions just as much as the brave few students still watching her. _I know I have to deal with this, but why am I getting so fired up? I’m making a fool of myself. Maybe it’s because she’s so much like I used to be. Yeah, that has to be it. There’s a connection here or something, I just overreacted. I should just relax a little and let things work themselves out._ Sawako could have continued to back down on her stance, had Ritsu not risen up to meet the teacher head on.

“Maybe I don’t ‘got it’,” Ritsu growled, covering the last two words in air quotes. “I’ve planned on a future that lets me enjoy the present. If I can’t do that, the future doesn’t matter. If you or the others can’t understand that, then there’s no need to keep this farce of a club together. I -ow!” Ritsu yelped as Sawako pinched her cruelly on the cheek.

“Don’t swear at your teachers like that!” Sawako ordered loudly enough to cover her actions to any would-be tattlers before lowering her voice so only Ritsu could hear. “This is for the others, who I’m sure would do worse if they could hear you talking like that. You’re the mouthpiece to this whole operation. Just because you took the job on a whim doesn’t mean you can’t be the leader they need.”

Ending her hold on Ritsu, Sawako held out her umbrella forcefully. “Take this. You’re gonna catch something.”

“What do you know?” Ritsu spat, rubbing her reddening cheek while taking a defiant step out of the umbrella’s range. “You don’t know them like I do.”

Sawako merely frowned. She hadn’t wanted to make use of her trump card, given the weather, but she didn’t appear to have a choice. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a crumpled sheet of paper and handed it to her student. Ritsu snatched the paper from the woman’s grasp. “What’s this, a confession letter? Did you finally give up on chasing boys?” The venom behind Ritsu’s tone was about as potent as the raindrops falling on Sawako’s head.

Despite Ritsu’s lack of conviction, it required all of Sawako’s self-restraint to prevent her from sending Ritsu through a wall. “I _found _that in the trash, deposited by your kouhai,” Sawako barely managed to get out with an even tone, holding the umbrella over her student dutifully. “I thought you might be interested.” Fortunately, Ritsu was becoming too absorbed in the paper to question why Sawako happened to bear witness to Azusa’s trash disposal.

Shielding the paper with her body to prove she didn’t need Sawako’s help, Ritsu scanned the letter quickly. Her mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish, but when she spoke once more, she was dumbstruck. “Who the hell is this? This isn’t me. God, I feel like Mio could have written this, it’s so cringey. Are you sure your eyesight isn’t failing you? Nakano and Mio look really similar from beh-”

“Shut it,” Sawako countered, snatching the paper back and almost tearing it in the process. “And yes, it’s disgustingly cloying in its praise, but I think that’s the point. Azusa was trying to express how much you all meant to her, likely because of what’s coming up in March. She wrote one of these graduation letters for each of you, but after when I assume you had your fight, she threw them away. What does that tell you?”

“She doesn’t believe in us?” Ritsu guessed, her voice betraying her concern over that concept. “I mean, Yui’s pushing her, sure, and we’re not the most serious club out there, but we pull through when it counts, don’t we? Sawa-chan, tell me I’m not ruining the lives of the youth with this club. I don’t need crushing her dreams on my conscious!”

The teacher smirked wickedly, her baited trap bearing immediate results. “I don’t know, the club president seemed to think everything is fine with the club until a few days ago, so there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with this letter from my perspective. Maybe if she keeps sitting on her hands and closing her eyes, all her problems will disappear. That’s how a coward would handle it, anyways.”

Ritsu’s indignant bravado was crushed by the intensifying rain around her. When she met Sawako’s expectant stare, there was a rawness to her expression that startled her teacher. “I’m not a damn coward. Back at the party. You said the college would be a step down for Mio. I don’t want to hurt Nakano’s feelings, but if keeping the band together means holding Mio back, it’s not worth it. That’s how I feel. That’s why I can’t be their leader. I play favorites.” Ritsu smirked to herself, displaying a mirth her eyes couldn’t mimic. “Yui or Mio’d be much better leaders. Hell, even Nakano could probably handle it. She’s going to have to do it next year anyways.”

It took precious time for Sawako to conjure up a rebuttal. In truth, she had had a similar conversation with her own band, years ago. Navigating relationships of any nature was complicated, but at least she had some experience when it came to clubs. “No you don’t play favorites, and no, nobody else can have the official title of leader but you,” Sawako told Ritsu for her. “If you were playing favorites, the band would have collapsed years ago. Bands don’t function on relationships like that, unlike clubs. Azusa doesn’t believe that. Yui, Tsumugi, and Mio don’t believe it. If anything, you’re too scared to tell them how you really feel. Nobody’s telling you not to like Mio more or less because you’ve known her longer. If every relationship you make is constantly compared to the one you already have, you’ll never form any new bonds. That’s how I know you’re wrong. Speaking strictly musically, it would make more sense for you all to attend college together. I won’t lie and call you the next big thing as you are, but if you put some real effort into those performances of yours, you could have something more special than you know. I played with several metal bands over the years besides Death Devil, and none of them have ever come close to approaching HTT’s best sound on a good day, much as I loathe to admit that. If I didn’t despise every lyric that your bassist created, I’d call you idiot savants. What I’m getting at is that it’s not as terrible a decision as you think. It considers everyone, because what Mio truly wants is to be with everyone. If you’re playing favorites, then you should agree with her.” Sawako paused to breathe, pushing her glasses up her face.

The umbrella Sawako had held out was now stuck in limbo between teacher and student, not really covering either of them and making Sawako’s hand tired. It was becoming difficult for Sawako to tell what part of her face was covered in rain and what was covered in sweat. The courtyard was abandoned, the rain coming down in torrents, punishing the two people and the bust foolish enough to remain outside. Had Sawako not started yelling, she was fairly certain Ritsu wouldn’t have heard her. “You don’t get it!” Ritsu shouted back. “She can’t get closer to me! If we stay together, she’ll be stuck to us all the way through college, and she’ll never get the chance to grow the hell up! I’m not going to murder her potential like that.” Shivering slightly, Ritsu moved to stand more directly under the umbrella. “I’m the one who’s always dragged her away from what she should be doing. It’s time I grew up too and forced her to reach her potential herself. I rely on her too much.”

“So what?!” Sawako snapped back, now standing right next to Ritsu under the umbrella. “What’s wrong with that? You can be self-sacrificing without sacrificing yourself, you moron! Listen to yourself! You’re exactly the kind of person any band would kill to have. If you had the brains to look yourself in the mirror and see that, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess!”

In opening her mouth to respond, Ritsu sneezed into her arm, sparing herself a violent haymaker from Sawako had she missed her target. The drummer tried again, only to sneeze once more. Sawako frowned. “Come inside. We can talk about your punishment for ditching class and the next steps after school. Right now, you need to get dry.”

Sniffling, Ritsu stepped forward without even a trademark complaint. As the two half-jogged, half-walked into the school, Ritsu muttered something Sawako couldn’t hear. “What?” Sawako exclaimed. “I can’t hear you, it’s pouring.”

Ritsu sighed. “I said I’m doing this for me, just to be clear,” she explained as the two made it into the school. “I just realized that I can’t let things go with this bad taste in my mouth.”

Sawako only smiled knowingly as Ritsu shook herself off like a wet dog. The fact that she hadn’t chosen to retreat and had bothered to show up to school had already told Sawako that. What she was doing was reminding the drummer exactly what that something she had to do was. “Well, I wish you luck. It would certainly get quiet around here if I only had one club to deal with.”

There was no response from Ritsu, but she didn’t bother concealing the small smile that appeared on her face as she exchanged her shoes. Sawako ran a towel through her hair slowly, doing her best to dry off without ruining her morning of styling. _Well, that was way more effort than it should have been, but it looks like I reached her. Now I just have to figure out how to dry my hair in the next four minutes. Mou, the things I do for this club. _Watching Ritsu take off towards her classroom, Sawako found a smile contradicting her complaining thoughts._ At least one thing went right this morning. I’m looking forward to you showing me what HTT is capable of, Ritsu Tainaka._

* * *

**November 17th, Lunchtime**

Nodoka Manabe had seen very little of her best friend in the last two weeks. In fact, the two had barely interacted at all since the cultural festival, their sharing of the same classroom akin to two ships drifting ignorantly past each other in the night. It was as if Nodoka’s childhood friend had forgotten she was there, which sadly wasn’t the most outlandish explanation for her behavior. Admittedly, student council president duties post-festival had absorbed the vast majority of Nodoka’s free time until very recently, but a hello now and then compared to actually spending time with her best friend didn’t compare. Yui’s newfound autonomy was encouraging for the girl’s developing maturity, but it left Nodoka a little disappointed, knowing her childhood friend since kindergarten didn’t need her as much anymore. The two of them arguably shouldn’t have become friends from the beginning due to their harshly contrasting personalities, which only made the sudden gap between them more noticeable. Nodoka kept Yui from doing anything that would get her killed both physically and academically, and Yui kept Nodoka’s life interesting. The idea that this dynamic was finally breaking down soured Nodoka’s mood more than she expected. _It’s for the best though. This had to happen at some point. As long as she’s happy, there’s no issue. _As the students began to mill about, finding their destined locations for lunchtime, Nodoka found herself frowning at the empty desk by the window. “And she’s gone again,” the brunette grumbled to herself, adjusting her red-rimmed glasses in frustration.

Though Nodoka hadn’t expected the pouring rain outside to deter Yui from making for the roof to eat her lunch, she would have at least expected the guitarist to tell her why she bothered to run off without so much as a goodbye every day by now. She had considered following her childhood friend several times without acting on her thoughts. The one time she had worked up the nerve to act, Yui’s bandmates beat her to the punch and left the air between them all markedly tense. Ritsu disappearing altogether also drew hesitation out of the student council president. _False. Ritsu’s not gone. She’s currently in the nurse’s office riding out a cold or some similar ailment. She’s supposed to be back by the time the day ends, but that might not happen if she’s still gone after this long. I’m responsible for giving her today’s notes, as usual. Yui hasn’t asked for those recently, either. _Shoving aside notions of what a polite level of nosiness for gossip would be, Nodoka pondered on her friend’s aberrant behavior as she took her homemade lunch out. _Yui has been acting irregularly, for her at least, for a while now. Since the festival? Wrong, it started before that, but symptoms of subdued response times, failure to emote regularly, and withdrawal from non-club related activities appeared shortly after the festival. Signs would indicate that the festival was a potential catalyst. There’s also the rumor going around that Yui is participating in illicit activities with her kouhai, though that rumor was perpetrated by Azusa-chan’s class, not mine. Therefore, the relevance between Yui’s shift in mood and the Light Music Club is likely centered around Azusa-chan, but they could just be correlated events. Circumstantial evidence includes Mio and Mugi-chan’s wary demeanors around Yui, indicating some desire to avoid interacting with her under a certain context. Yui is affectionate towards Azusa-chan specifically. If the rumors aren’t baseless, then the most reasonable conclusion would be… _“A falling out,” Nodoka whispered, her deduction complete. “It makes sense if there was a fight in the club over the relationship between Azusa-chan and Yui. That just leaves the question of what to do about it.”

If Yui’s band was having a fight centered around Yui and Azusa, there was little Nodoka felt she could or should do to intervene unless she was approached directly. Seeing as how Yui hadn’t seen fit to do that, she was left in the interesting yet ultimately frustrating land of speculation. Shoving the rice in her bento around absentmindedly, Nodoka distracted herself by taking a headcount of students who had left the room. Somebody had to make sure that all the students showed up to their afternoon classes, and Sawako’s apathy towards work frequently left the burden on her shoulders. _Mugi-chan isn’t here. She probably went after Yui. Ritsu still isn’t back, which leaves-_

“Ne, Nodoka, would you mind eating with me?” came a voice that desperately wanted to sound casual from Nodoka’s right.

Already expecting her guest, Nodoka nodded once at Mio, gesturing to the empty chair in front of her. Mio smiled gratefully and took the offer swiftly. Yui aside, Nodoka was closer to Mio than any other member of the Light Music Club, thanks to the two of them being the only people they knew in their second-year classes. Contrary to Yui, Nodoka found much more familiar ground with the intelligent and competent Mio, the two of them often partaking in friendly competition for the top spots on exams. The two had clicked instantly and had even hung out on Sundays on occasion. “It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to eat together,” Mio admitted guiltily. “I apologize for that. Things have been a bit crazy since the festival.”

“No need to apologize,” Nodoka waved off before placing her hands together in prayer over her food in silent thanks. “It’s as you said. My duties dealing with the aftermath of the cultural festival have kept me much busier than I’d have liked. It’s nice to be able to eat with company again.” Mio followed her friend’s example, and the two began to eat in silence.

Mio was never much of a conversationalist, which was completely fine with Nodoka. In her opinion, it made the things they did end up talking about all the more meaningful. What did bother the student council president was how Mio appeared to be more interested in pushing her food around its container as opposed to eating it. Wistfully glancing towards the door wasn’t doing anything for her case either. “She’ll come back when the nurse is sure she doesn’t have a cold,” Nodoka reminded her friend. “There’s no need to get restless over things we can’t control.”

Startled, Mio nearly knocked over her lunch by kicking her legs upward as she snapped her attention to her friend. “Right, right! No no, I’m fine. I wasn’t just thinking about that baka. She didn’t even acknowledge me when I was coming in today. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of letting her bother me.”

“Then perhaps you’re worried for Yui or Mugi-chan?” Nodoka presumed calmly, brushing past Mio’s excessive protesting. “Admittedly, I am too. They shouldn’t be up on the roof in this weather. Not that the snow in the past few days was much better.” Had she not spent years conditioning herself not to judge Yui’s erratic behavior so harshly, the rational side of her would have called the girl a moron.

Once again, Mio shook her head. “It’s not one of them, it’s all of them. They’ve never acted this weird before, even Azusa-chan. She’s never turned her phone off before now.”

Nodoka tilted her head, marking that fact down in her mind for later use. “Do you want my advice?” she asked. “Because if you do, you’ll have to explain what the problem is. I have to admit I’m a bit curious. Yui doesn’t normally let things bother her for this long without doing anything about it or forgetting it entirely.”

“Is it that obvious we’re in a tight spot?” Mio lamented to Nodoka’s immediate nod. “Of course it is. Maybe Yui was wrong. It’s tradition for most seniors in culture clubs to quit by this point anyways.”

For any other club, Nodoka would have instantly agreed. The influx of resignation forms she’d received over the past three weeks were physical proof of that. “That’s not what you want, is it?” Nodoka pressed, setting her utensil down. “Your club is subject to disbandment if the seniors quit now. Didn’t you mention the other day that you wanted to attend college with all of them? That was your idea, right?”

Abandoning the pretense that she intended to eat anything, Mio folded her arms. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, I want that, but I don’t know if it was my idea anymore, or if that matters. They all keep saying that we want the same thing, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. I don’t know what to do.” The bassist’s head met Nodoka’s desk, nearly smashing into her lunch comically.

Pushing her lunch away from the smattering of black hair encroaching on her space, Nodoka smiled slightly. “Tell me what’s been happening with my friends for the past few weeks,” she requested gently.

At her behest, Mio lifted her head and spoke. Nodoka noted every detail, every event Mio described, accounting for perspective bias and missing pieces of information with what she knew from being around the others for the past month. As Mio continued to vent, her grievances coming fast and without pause, Nodoka’s powers of deduction began to struggle to keep up. _This is more complicated than my initial evaluation presumed. I can’t just solve this with words. Ritsu and Azusa-chan’s behavior is of particular concern. I should confront one or both of them to get their side of the story before acting. _Noticing that Mio’s pace had slowed, Nodoka finished the last of her meal. “I think I understand the gist of it,” she mused aloud. “If I’ve surmised things correctly, the crux of the problem is you don’t know what the next step for your band should be now that the cultural festival has concluded. Am I wrong?”

Mio sighed over her untouched lunch. Her tangent had left her too exhausted to even consider eating. The chatter of the classroom faded away as Nodoka focused herself on the person in front of her. “Yeah, that sounds about right. What should I do?” the bassist asked, playing with her hair indecisively.

Nodoka sighed over her finished lunch. There was too much in front of her to unpack immediately, and she knew she had to somehow explain as much. “Look, this is a bit much to take in all at once. I’d like to at least speak with some of the others on this matter before I draw any conclusions for you. At the least, however, you still want to go to the same university as your band, correct?” she questioned, adjusting her glasses.

Immediately the bassist’s hopeful gaze fell. “I… don’t know. With how that baka and Mugi-chan have been behaving, I’m not sure what to believe anymore… It’s scary.”

“If you spend all your time thinking about it, the decision will be made for you,” Nodoka helpfully pointed out.

“Wouldn’t that be swell,” Mio pouted, no longer listening closely.

The downtrodden speech annoyed Nodoka, who expected better from a rival in academia. She pushed Mio’s lunch back towards her with her chopsticks. “That’s your empty stomach talking. You can’t face the problem properly if you’re not eating.”

Drawn back in, Mio glared up at her friend. “I did face it, didn’t I? And now they’re all mad at each other, and I’m mad at them. Everyone’s mad.”

“I’m not mad at you, Mio-chan,” Tsumugi interrupted, appearing right next to Mio.

Letting out a girly shriek that most of the class was fortunately well acquainted with at this point, Mio took in the keyboardist’s sudden arrival. “Mugi-chan? Stop doing that! Where’s Yui-chan? What are you doing here?” Every question added just a bit of hostility to Mio’s tone.

Nodding once to Nodoka in greeting, Tsumugi smiled cryptically. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch, Mio-chan. Yui-chan just asked me to retrieve her bag for her. I was speaking with her, and you’ll be glad to know that she’s holding up rather well after yesterday, given the circumstances. Oh, would you like to join us? We’re in the clubroom, and –”

“No,” Mio cut her friend off. “I’ll stay here with Nodoka. Go have fun.” The hostility in Mio’s tone surprised both girls she was talking to.

It looked like Tsumugi had plenty more to say, but she followed Mio’s order without another word, a bit of hurt crossing her features as she left the room. The second Tsumugi disappeared, Mio raised her hands towards the door, indicating something Nodoka couldn’t see. “Did you see that? Can you believe her?”

Wiping her glasses to make sure her vision wasn’t obfuscated, Nodoka frowned. “I saw you panicking like you’d seen a ghost. Was there something else to see there? It looked to me like you brushed her off for no reason.”

Mio huffed. “That’s what she wants me to think. She’s still trying to manipulate Yui-chan, even after what happened. Yui-chan just went through getting rejected, and Mugi-chan’s still trying to work her over. How am I supposed to trust someone like her, revealing secrets for the sole purpose of hurting her friends? Worse, she set Yui up to fail, and she won’t even apologize.” Having evidently held this frustration back for days had made the release all the more fervent for Mio, to Nodoka’s chagrin.

Turning over a chopstick in her fingers, Nodoka considered Mio’s perspective once more. There was no immediate way to determine if what Mio was saying was true, which meant she could only speculate on what had riled up the bassist to the point that she was doubting her friends and herself. Though the problem’s source eluded her, Nodoka decided to mollify its symptoms while she was here. “If you go looking for something to mistrust or doubt in your friends, you’ll find it. If you look for a reason to hate someone, you’ll find it. The only thing you can’t find by looking is trust,” Nodoka posited, holding her chopstick out to Mio. “Trust can only be given, not taken. It’s not an object, like this chopstick. If there’s one thing Yui’s taught me since I’ve known her, it’s that you can’t judge people or hold grudges for every mistake they make forever. Yui messes up constantly, but she’s a good person. I’m almost certain it’s a similar case with Mugi-chan. It might be difficult, but you should give her another chance.”

In a move that was confusing to Nodoka, Mio heaved a sigh, giving in to her hunger as she finally began her lunch. “That doesn’t help. I already know I should trust them. They’re my best friends. I have way more reasons to trust them than not, but it goes beyond that. We’re talking about our future as a band here, and they’re all treating it like some dumb game when it should be simple.” An angry tear formed in Mio’s eye. “I have to find a way to keep everyone together, because I promised Yui-chan I would, but it’s like everyone else forgot who we are overnight.”

No deduction was necessary for Nodoka to determine her next sentence. All she had to do was channel what Yui would say. “Then maybe you should show them again,” Nodoka suggested, setting her chopstick down. “It should give you some answers, if nothing else.”

“How?” Mio responded instantly. “How do I do that?”

Realizing she hadn’t accounted for the most important step in the exact same way Yui usually did, Nodoka could only shrug. “I… don’t know. I’m not great at remedying club issues that don’t have something to do with budgets or usage permissions.”

Watching Mio’s face fall made Nodoka feel like she had just killed a puppy. _That’s not fair. Yui must be rubbing off on all of them. Mou, this is how I ended up buying Yui ice cream after school every day in middle school. _“Look, I don’t know if I can be of any help, but I’d like both you and Yui to be able to lean on me if you need me. Please tell her that.”

Swallowing a bite pensively, Mio found it within herself to smile gratefully. “I really appreciate that, Nodoka. It means a lot. You’re right. There’s no way I can let them get away with keeping things from me scot free. I’ll set them straight if it’s the last thing I do.”

Tugging on her collar nervously, Nodoka hoped she hadn’t just made a mistake in encouraging Mio. “Well, that’s not quite what I meant, but I suppose it works.” She straightened herself out in her seat, resting her hands on her desk. “Give me a day or two to gather some information. Between the two of us, I’m sure we can resolve everything neatly.”

The relief on Mio’s face nearly made Nodoka’s proposal worth making all by itself. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she exclaimed, startling some nearby students. “I won’t forget this, Nodoka!”

As a general policy, Nodoka tried not to get too deeply involved in the business of other official clubs. The Light Music Club had a bad habit of being her exception to this rule, between allowing late club applications, late auditorium permission slips, and installing air conditioners in the music room in the middle of summer. Even as graduation loomed, it appeared that little had changed. _Perhaps you still need me for a little longer, Yui. That’s fine. I don’t mind helping out a bit longer. _Rising from her seat, Nodoka picked up her empty lunch with a reassuring smile at her friend. “Don’t mention it. This is what friends are for, right?”

* * *

**November 10th, Jun’s House **

“You say that, but I still feel bad for imposing on you so suddenly,” Azusa retorted, shifting uneasily from her seat against the wall in Jun’s bedroom. “It’s bad friendship etiquette.”

Jun had to stifle a laugh from her bed. Her room was cozy in her opinion, consisting only of some bookshelves, her bed, nightstand, and bass guitar, with little room remaining to walk around. Most would find the mildly cramped space stifling, but Jun appreciated the accessibility the limitations in size afforded her. Despite her affection for her living space, she knew very well that her room was only meant to hold one person at a time, so hearing Azusa apologize for tagging along with her after school was amusing. “Bad friendship etiquette would be not hanging out with your friend when you have free time,” Jun corrected. “You pass the friend inspection for today. Ne, did you wanna catch a movie or something? There’s nothing to read in here and I need to be constantly entertained or I’ll die.” The joke went right over Azusa’s head, but Jun awarded herself points for amusing one of the two people in the room.

Azusa looked around dubiously at the fully lined bookshelves and various manga eating up what little floorspace Jun had to work with. Shrugging sheepishly from her spot on her bed, Jun’s head flopped backwards onto her pillow. Her dark brown hair flopped right along with her, released from the ties that normally held it in two nebulous bunches on either side of her head. She had finally gotten the rare chance to hang out with Azusa alone for the first time since the festival, and the aloof guitarist was spending the time contemplating some grand design Jun would never understand even if she wanted to. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, even though it meant that they ended up reading old manga for an hour at Jun’s house when they couldn’t decide what to do. As long as Azusa was willing to hang out and not yell at her, Jun could put on a smile for her friend. What she couldn’t do was tolerate insisting that hanging out was what friends were for over and over again, as Azusa continued to question the validity of her presence in Jun’s house. “Is there anything decent playing?” Azusa asked, stretching her arms out cutely.

The bassist shrugged. “Hell if I know. Why don’t we go find out?” Her attempt at chumminess fell short of the response she wanted as Azusa tucked her knees in, staring at nothing in particular.

“Okay, sure,” Azusa agreed without much enthusiasm.

Whether Azusa had any problem with her apathy was of no concern to Jun. She’d been more than patient with Azusa and Ui both, waiting on the two of them to resolve whatever conflict plagued their other friend group so they could hang out again like the world wasn’t at stake. Now that she had Azusa alone and the young guitarist was still moping about something or other, Jun wasn’t about to sit on her ass until she saw the friend she respected come back to her. “Alright, time to spill,” the bassist ordered, rolling off her bed to clamp a hand on her friend’s shoulder aggressively. “Give me the dirt on HTT. What have you been getting up to in that music room lately?”

Taken aback by Jun’s borderline hostile approach, Azusa jumped and scooted the short distance she had to get away from Jun’s assault. The move dragged Jun all the way off the bed and onto the carpeted floor face first, her body careening to the ground behind her at an awkward angle. “Jun-chan!” Azusa cried, instantly regretting her overreaction.

Holding up a slightly twitching hand to indicate that she was still alive, Jun dragged herself into a cross-legged sitting position against her bed. “Well, now that I’m awake, care to answer my question?” Jun asked as if nothing had happened.

Averting her eyes from her friend, Azusa puffed up her cheeks and put on a defiant frown. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing wrong with HTT.”

“I-I know that you do know,” Jun mocked dispassionately. “And I didn’t say something was wrong, you did. Look, I’ve known that something’s up for a while because of Ui. I’ve known Ui longer than you, so I know when she’s pretending that everything is fine, and I know that no matter how close I am to her, I can’t get anything out of her if it’s got something to do with one of her sister’s problems. Hell, she paid me off to not get involved with whatever the hell’s going on at first. The last thing I want is a repeat of yesterday because I can’t get the three of us to see that we’re all on the same side for next year. You’re going through some shit, so talk to me. I owe you for yesterday, at least.”

Azusa went silent. From her position against the nearby bookshelf, one foot crossed over another pensively. Jun bade herself to be patient, but watching Azusa remain stiff in front of her only made the quickening of her heartbeat more noticeable. “You don’t owe me anything, Jun-chan, but I’ll humor you,” the guitarist reasoned. “It’s as I said. I’m sad that they’re leaving, so I’m trying to do something about it. There’s nothing wrong, because we’re going to fix it.”

“Mou!” Jun cried out as the answer she wasn’t looking for entered the room.

Allowing her head to crash backwards onto her mattress sent Jun’s tangled mop of hair into a small firework pattern around her head. “You say that, and even when you come over to hang out, you still keep moping. Just propose to the damn guitarist already, would you?!”

At Jun’s suggestion, Azusa snapped her gaze viciously towards her prone friend. Were it not for her telltale blush, Jun would be counting her blessings that Azusa’s bite was much less terrifying than her bark. “That’s a stupid rumor I started on accident and you know it. It has nothing to do with graduation,” she insisted, folding her arms.

Jun didn’t mimic the gesture, instead staring at one of the blades of her ceiling fan spinning lazily around, ruffling the pages of upturned manga scattered around the room. Her vision was so skewed that she felt as if she could reach out and touch her ceiling from her position against her bed. Instead, she pointed a finger at her guest. “Now you listen here, child. These problems of yours are absolutely intertwined. I get not wanting to lose the good thing you’ve got. Perfect logic. Flawless. Ten out of ten, way to go. If you want the dirty truth, I’m jealous of your club. The jazz club never looks like it’s having half as much fun as the Light Music Club, so the fact that you’re upset about March makes sense to an outsider like me. But, and this is a big but, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, so you’re better off not letting your senpais worry you with their issues by letting them go sooner rather than later. Your present will become a million times better when you’re not freaking out over someone else’s future, trust me. It works just fine for me, anyways.” Her pearl of wisdom delivered, Jun joined her hands behind her head and waited for Azusa to praise her genius.

“What are you saying, that I should tell them to retire?” Azusa fretted, falling forward on her hands to lean in closer to Jun’s now flustered face. “I can’t do that. They’re my senpais. Would you tell the jazz club seniors to leave the club for any reason?”

Controlling her breathing and reminding herself where she was, Jun pushed herself up onto the bed to gain a bit of distance from Azusa’s piercing brown eyes. “I don’t have to,” she boasted. “They all quit already to study for entrance exams, and you should tell your senpais, especially the stupid ones, to do the same, if you want what’s best for them,“ Jun insisted, wagging a finger knowingly.

Sensing that Azusa still needed convincing, Jun rolled away from her friend on her bed and scooped up a convenient wayward manga. “If you’re really hellbent on making sure Yui doesn’t start going carnal on you, entrance exams should be distracting enough for her. Unless you’re planning on taking entrance exams soon, you’re not graduating this year. Regardless of how you feel, that’s where the conversation should start and end, am I wrong?”

Azusa sat up on her knees, scrounging around in her mind for something to say as rebuttal and discovering nothing. “You’re right, Jun-chan. I know you are, but it hurts. I hate that they’re hurting me like this. I hate that I care so much. I was never supposed to care this much about them. They sucked me in with their cakes and kindness and laziness and cakes and Ton-chan and music and-“ With every and, Azusa pounded a fist onto the ground next to her, jostling the pile of manga stacked precariously at her side.

Watching the dwindling health of her manga collection, Jun waved her arms frantically in front of her. “Hey hey now, easy girl. There’s no need to get into it with yourself like that, or take it out on my stuff. We agreed no more hitting anything, didn’t we? Get mad at me if you need to get mad at someone, but not yourself. Beating yourself up for having a good time is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard of, and I’ve been around you for years.”

“But it’s true,” Azusa pouted, missing Jun’s insult by a mile. “They drew me in with their performances. I tried really hard to find another band when I found out what they were really like, but no band I’ve heard sounds like they do. I hate to admit it, but I let them become special to me, Jun-chan, knowing that we couldn’t last together. I wasn’t supposed to make that mistake again. I’m the only one who’s really powerless.”

Jun smiled to herself over Azusa’s self-deprecation. “You dolt. You can do anything they can do, and you’ve proven it plenty of times. You’ll prove it again when we’re the Light Music Club next year.”

“No I can’t,” Azusa insisted, finally toppling the manga pile beside her with one decisive pound. “I can’t soldier on through this the way they do, pretending everything is fine. I have to get us out of this rut somehow. Yui-senpai has done better than everyone in that regard. That’s why I have to make up with her. It’s not fair to her that she suffers because of m-ow!” Azusa clutched her arm, a crimson mark appearing where the manga Jun had hurled at it had impacted it.

“That was for my poor manga. I didn’t go for the head, so you should be praising me,” Jun quickly reminded her friend. “And like I said, give yourself some damn credit you moron. If you want melodrama, go to the movies with me. Maybe you’ll keep them together, maybe you won’t. Maybe I’ll win the lottery tomorrow, maybe we’ll live like queens forever. There’s nothing to think about here. Just get out there tomorrow and do your best and cut out the moping. It’s counterproductive.”

Silence gripped the room. It occurred to Jun that she had possibly gone too far once more, but her concern was assuaged as Azusa began to nod to herself, giving up on responding physically to Jun’s assault. “Yeah, I know. I appreciate being able to vent, though, Jun-chan. I can’t exactly go telling the others how I feel about Yui-senpai when I don’t get it myself. It’s frustrating.”

Jun sat up, letting her legs dangle over her bed as she locked eyes with Azusa. The two were only a meter or two away from each other, but the distance appeared to be shrinking to Jun. “I understand, really. That being said, how do you think you feel about her? I’m not teasing you. I want to know, as your, um, friend.”

Picking up on unusual hesitation from Jun, Azusa stared the girl down curiously. “She’s my senpai.” The answer was as prosaic as Jun could come to expect from Azusa, but that didn’t stop the bassist from rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be like that. I’m not Ui. Whatever you say isn’t going to leave this room.” Jun was tapping into a side of her that also didn’t leave her room, one that had a visible effect on Azusa’s self-imposed distance from a proper response.

Precious seconds later, Jun was allowed into Azusa’s mind. “Like I said, I don’t know how I feel. She’s annoying, overwhelming most of the time. I feel like I’m running out of energy just by being around her, but at the same time, she’s always the first one to look out for me when I need help.” Jun glanced away at that comment for an instant refocusing before Azusa could notice. “It’s like she only acts like a senpai when she absolutely needs to. Mio-senpai does a much better job being a respectable senpai than any of the others, but it’s not the same. Something about Yui-senpai makes me want to behave irrationally, and I can’t explain it. I can’t just follow every stupid whim I have, though. I know for a fact that I find her annoying, but I don’t do anything about it. Maybe I’m just lazy.”

Jun smirked, fronting for the rapid beating of her heart. “That’s certainly one conclusion you could come to. You’re not lazy, though. If you listened to your heart instead of your mind on this one, your thoughts might be a bit clearer.”

Not following her friend’s line of logic, Azusa frowned. “You don’t need to try to cheer me up or anything. It’s confusing, but I’m not letting it bother me.” The blatant lie was so bad that Jun had to put in effort not to burst out laughing. “You’re more confusing. Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me still?” she accused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

_Why indeed. Unlike you, I know when to listen to my heart, even when the brain says it’s wrong. _Jun couldn’t say that out loud, but she knew another way to speak her mind. “Curious about little old me?” Jun spoke with faux bashfulness as she leaned forward suddenly, pushing her face right into Azusa’s. “Well, you must know, Azu-nyaaan, it’s because I happen to like you,” the bassist whispered in her best Yui impression, giving Azusa a small boop on the nose for good measure.

Azusa’s blushing face scrunched up adorably as she attempted to slap Jun, only to be blocked by the bassist’s already prepared hand. “Y-you’re an asshole!” the pigtailed girl cried out, scooting backwards until she collided with the wall behind her. “Don’t do that! You’ll give me a heart attack!”

Chuckling heartily, Jun toppled backwards, too amused with herself to think straight for a moment. When she managed to properly sit up again, she was staring down the enraged guitarist she knew and loved, familiar fire reignited within her. This didn’t take her life out of immediate danger. “Alright, alright, sorry. Just do me a favor and know how to respond when the real deal says that, okay? Oh, but another reason I wanted you to hang out today was this.” Eager for a distraction, Jun popped to her feet and traipsed into her closet, rummaging around through mishandled clothes and perilously stacked knickknacks for a specific box she had stored in there months ago.

Idly, Jun wondered if Azusa had actually heard what she was trying to say through her teasing. Though Azusa certainly knew nothing about how Jun actually felt, that was by design. Little expressions like the one within the small parcel Jun snatched out of a spot between a coat hanger and some old notebooks were plenty for her. _Hm. It doesn’t really matter what she does, so long as she doesn’t mope too much longer about it. Until next year, it’s not really my problem, and next year is forever away. _Tossing the small package to her friend, Jun grinned widely. “There you go. Happy early birthday or whatever. Since we’re both going to be occupied for the next few days, now’s as good a time as any, right?”

Though there was murder in her eyes, interest took over Azusa’s hands as she turned the box over, inspecting it. Insisting that she wasn’t done talking to Jun yet, Azusa began to gently open the box. Contained inside was a small keychain with Azusa’s exact guitar make and model on it. The guitarist gasped giddily, forgetting everything that happened in the previous minute. “Jun-chan, this is awesome!” she exclaimed. “I’ll put it on right away!”

As Azusa made for her bag by the door, Jun held up a hand to stop her, said hand containing a similar keychain that depicted her bass guitar. “Hold on there. Put it on after this semester. There’s one for me and one for Ui, too. Don’t tell her though, I’m saving it for her birthday. I took inspiration from your current keychain. Treat it like an official symbol of our new band.”

Jun’s victorious smile faltered a little as Azusa’s face took on some sort of sadness that Jun couldn’t place the source for. When she realized Jun was looking at her strangely, Azusa straightened up. “Ah, yes, of course. I’ll do just that, Jun-chan. Thank you, this is a wonderful present.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jun insisted, eyeing the sticker with Azusa’s nickname that Yui had plastered on Azusa’s current keychain. “Pay me back by settling things properly with those idiots of yours, alright?”

For the first time that day, Jun felt like she was being smiled at genuinely. It hurt, knowing that Azusa wasn’t really the one she turned to, or even that Ui turned to. _Even after everything she’s done, she’s still turned to them, to Yui. That just proves she’s lying to herself harder than even she probably realizes. Mou, how does a girl I barely know know my friends better than I do? That’s a stupid question. I probably at least know Ui better than she does, not that anyone’s keeping track, so take that, guitarist. _“Alright. I’ll do my best,” Azusa promised, nodding her pigtails once and breaking Jun’s line of thought. “Do you still want to go see a movie?” she asked, motioning towards the door she found herself standing by.

In spite of her doubts, Jun plastered on a smile for her more insecure friend. Whether Azusa listened or not wasn’t really of any concern to her. Trying to overthink something like that was a mistake for people like Azusa and Ui to make, not her. “Yeah, sounds good. I could go for something to scare the shit out of me right now.”

* * *

**November 17th, Yui’s Room**

A funeral dirge gave the rain outside Yui’s window company. It blared insistently, demanding the subject of the sound respond to its call. Yui glanced over with marked irritation at her cell phone. “I put you over there for a reason,” she told the object. “You’re supposed to stop bothering me.”

Yui’s phone didn’t listen, continuing to beg and plead for attention like a poorly trained puppy. Leaning her head back over the head of her chair, Yui read the name of the offending party upside down, or tried to. “Leave a message please,” she told the line of numbers on her screen as she allowed the phone to go to voicemail.

The noise offending Yui’s ears died out to make way for the pattering of rain, but she remained limp against the chair at her desk. She was already tired at this time of day right before dinner, when her food reserves were at their lowest, but the absence of practice had prevent the guitarist from refilling on both friend and cake energy as well, leaving her completely void of power. This was supposedly thanks to Ritsu being held up in remedial classes with Sawako to catch up on what she missed over the past two days, and even Yui could tell that Mio and Tsumugi were uncomfortable sharing a room together after watching them all day. _Well, I guess I can’t expect them to just get over everything, not when they need to talk to Ricchan about a bunch of stuff. That just means I have to do my best better for them when Ricchan comes back. _

Complicating this plan was Azusa Nakano. The kouhai hadn’t shown up to the clubroom at all in the short time between the senior’s arrival and Ritsu’s text to Yui that she wouldn’t make it. What bothered Yui was that this turn of events had greatly relieved her. Ui had claimed that Azusa had some homework to finish when Yui had asked, but Yui couldn’t help but ponder over the kouhai’s ulterior motives, given yesterday’s disaster. The unrelenting downpour outside wasn’t helping Yui’s mood either. Of all the weather conditions, rain was one of the worst. Yui could learn to fight heat or cold, but she could never seem to get out of a storm without getting soaked, or worse, getting Giita soaked. It was a small miracle that she’d been so out of it this morning that she’d forgotten to bring it with her when the storm first started. _Forgetting it kind of defeated the purpose of coming to school early though. Or maybe not. Or maybe…_ “Mou!” Yui cried out, flailing her arms around with half a second of energy before collapsing against her chair again. “I just wanna sleep.”

Fate reminded Yui that sleep was impossibly as the girl’s homework fluttered angrily to the ground at her feet, jostled off the table by her half-outburst. Spinning around in her chair and scooping up a math paper stylishly, Yui spent all of five seconds trying to solve the problem in front of her before giving up and sighing. _This is no time for math, not that there’s ever time for math. How long can I keep pretending I’m fine? No, I shouldn’t think like that. This is what I want, too, because Azu-nyan wants HTT, not Yui. _Completely distracted from the task that she was supposed to be accomplishing, Yui’s hands began to work on autopilot over her paper while she thought. _I know for certain that I love Azu-nyan. Azu-nyan doesn’t feel the same way. That’s what she said. I’m supposed to just accept that, right? That’s the mature thing to do, I think. Azu-nyan is worried about me and my future. She doesn’t have to be. I’ll be okay. Even if it’s not what quite what I want, as long as I’m around everyone, I can be happy. That’s enough, right? _

_No._

Yui blinked several times, but there was no mistaking the word she had written out subconsciously on her paper. Shaking her head, Yui attempted to distract herself by looking at her photo wall. This only drew attention to the noticeable gap where one of Yui’s pictures had been removed. Since Ui had returned the photo, Yui had stashed it in her bag to give to Azusa, only to miss every available opportunity due to her own poor memory of what she should be doing. Yui’s four closest friends judged the lead guitarist with their smiles as tears coalesced in Yui’s eyes. “It’s not enough…” she breathed to herself. “No! No! I have to be stronger than this! Azu-nyan and the others are counting on me! If I can’t even do my homework, I’ll never go to college with them!” Snapping her attention back to her homework, Yui erased her word and the other random doodles dotting the page as she attempted to begin her quest anew.

“Onee-chan?” came a slightly muffled voice beyond Yui’s closed door that broke her concentration immediately. “Are you alright? I heard yelling.”

Wiping her eyes and nearly stabbing herself with her pencil in the process, Yui jumped out of her seat like she was still in class. “I’m fine, Ui, don’t worry!” she insisted in a perfectly normal voice.

In the time it took Yui to mull over how good she had gotten at sounding like everything was fine, Ui responded. “Alright. Dinner’s in five minutes, alright? Come down when you’re ready. No rush.” There was clear concern behind Ui’s gentle reminder, proof she wasn’t entirely convinced by Yui’s act.

The brunette set her jaw at the faceless foe behind the door. _I’ll have to convince Ui that everything is fine at dinner so she tells Azu-nyan for me. The band needs to focus on itself, not the members. Does that make sense? Nothing makes sense. That used to sound more fun. Yesterday was fun. _This reminder brought Yui’s mood full circle as she plopped into her chair again.

Anything sounded better than competing to see how fast she could skip around problems until she ran out of questions to not solve, leading Yui to put on her guitar over her pajamas. Only a few strums in, however, and Giita was back on its stand. The sound was far too upset for Yui’s liking today. _Maybe it’s a good thing Ricchan got held back today. I need to do better for everyone. Oh, I bet I could get tips from Azu-nyan! Wait, that won’t work. I can’t face her yet, not until I’m sure Yui-senpai can control the immature parts of Yui. I’m not mature. I don’t want to be mature. I’m not ready, but I have to be. And my phone won’t be quiet! _

Yui considered smothering her phone with a pillow as its dulcet tones pierced every fiber of her being once more. An odd sense of déjà vu from several weeks ago washed over her, but this time, the offending caller didn’t even have the decency to give her a name to direct her ire towards. Fortunately for the caller, Yui was looking for something to distract herself. Snatching the phone up, Yui put on her best angry Mio voice. “I don’t want to buy anything!” Yui shouted at the speaker, hoping whatever persistent telemarketer was assailing her line her would leave things at that.

“Ms. Hirasawa, wasn’t it?” came a vaguely familiar voice on the other end of the line. “I take it I haven’t been calling the wrong number for the past half hour then. How have you been?”

Unprepared to be thrown into action, Yui’s brain was slow in determining exactly who she was talking to. Were it not for the use of Ms. Hirasawa, she likely would have been standing in her room for over a minute. “Ah… Azu-nyan’s mom?” Yui asked aloud. “That’s you, right?”

There was a pointed silence on the line. Yui checked several times to make sure the rain hadn’t somehow killed her connection. “Yes, I’m Azusa’s mother,” the other line finally responded. “I’m calling about a proposition our family has for you. Azusa and I were hoping you and the rest of your band would be willing to join us for dinner on Saturday. We haven’t had the chance to properly meet, you see, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t get to meet the little band my darling is so attached to at some point. Would you be able to attend?”

Yui glanced to her calendar to check for upcoming events and found it completely clear save for her and Azusa’s birthdays marked in pink highlighter, surrounding the 19th like some vibrant vanguard. This, of course, wasn’t the biggest hurdle in Yui’s mind to coming over to Azusa’s house for dinner. “Azu-nyan wanted me over for dinner?” Yui questioned, wondering if she was somehow hearing things wrong.

_Why is she suddenly inviting me to dinner? Do her parents want to kill me for hurting Azu-nyan? Did they get the whole band in on it? I don’t wanna die! I’ll miss everyone too much! I’ll have to skip town with Ui, start a new life as a hitchhiker! _Yui’s lamentation over her new life was interrupted by the clearing of a throat on the other line. “Of course! You’re her guitar senpai, aren’t you?” Though technically correct, even Yui knew Azusa would never call her something like that unless someone put a gun to her head. “If it helps matters, Ms. Kotobuki, Ms. Akiyama, and Ms. Tainaka have all already agreed to come. We’d hate to have you be the only one absent.” Mrs. Nakano added.

An automatic response kicked in for Yui as she nodded to someone who couldn’t see her. “You’re right! I have to go! I’ll be there!” Yui declared with unfounded confidence.

“Good girl, it’s a date then,” Mrs. Nakano praised disingenuously. “I’ll send you the details tomorrow. Make sure your parents know where you’re going. That is all.” With a click, Yui’s conversation was over.

Yui frowned at the phone. She had gone from planning on how to avoid Azusa to meeting her parents in a matter of minutes. This development was more than a Yui with no energy could handle, so she sat down hard on her bed, willing herself to hold on until she could get some energy into her and start figuring things out. Miraculously, Ui came in seconds later, holding a tray of food. “Onee-chan, who were you talking to?” she asked. “I brought dinner in case you wanted to eat in here.” Yui didn’t need to be told twice, and she had downed her drink before Ui had the chance to set her food down on the table.

Realizing that Ui was waiting on a response, Yui forced herself to think again. She stared through her younger sister as the most recent event that had happened played in reverse in her mind. With conflicted eyes, she recounted the most important part of her phone call. “I have a date with Azu-nyan’s mom on Saturday.”


	18. Play!

**November 18th, 7:22 AM**

“Don’t go!” Azusa pleaded desperately, clawing at air as she sat bolt upright in her bed.

Delirious eyes scoured unfamiliar territory for their target, ignoring the groans of the rest of the body’s muscles as they roved around for something familiar to anchor themselves onto. _I… what am I looking for? Where am I? _Blinking the sleep away carefully, Azusa squinted at the picture she could see in the distance, trapped between her outstretched fingers.

Somewhere out of Azusa’s grasp, she was flashing a peace sign with her fellow bandmates, commemorating what was probably a practice where no actual practice took place. Already stretching towards her goal, Azusa pushed her complaining body forward, straining to close an impossible distance as she attempted to grasp the scene in front of her. Only when she became fully aware of the fact that she was awake did she relax her reach, feeling somewhat foolish. _What am I doing?_ _Is it my senpais I’m chasing, or something else? That’s the second time in two nights and I can’t even remember what happened. Mou. Useless dreams. _As Azusa lowered her rapidly tiring hand, the picture on the wall was abducted by an interloper Azusa only just then recognized the presence of.

Startled, Azusa’s gaze snapped to the owner of the offending hand absconding with her arbitrary target. Mr. Nakano eyed the picture with an unusual amount of nostalgia, leaning casually against the doorframe in Azusa’s room. In half a second, Azusa was completely alert and active. The child practically leapt out of bed, putting herself firmly between her father and the rest of her room. Mr. Nakano raised an eyebrow at Azusa’s impressive reaction time, but didn’t attempt to challenge his daughter’s position. “This is them, isn’t it?” Takumi asked, waving the picture slightly in his hands. “It looks like you’ve found yourself a nice band of people, if you’re that worried about them.”

Behind the casual statement was a question Azusa didn’t want to answer, but she couldn’t conjure up a way to get her father to leave without giving him anything. _Remain calm. You’ve prepared for this eventuality. _“I respect them,” Azusa explained neutrally. “They opened my eyes to music again.” The words were curated carefully, having rested in the recesses of Azusa’s mind for over a year should this exact conversation take place.

“I… see.” Takumi replied, holding the picture out to his daughter kindly.

Without hesitation, Azusa snatched the photo back. She knew she should be more concerned about her father pulling the trigger on her wall as whole, but his sudden invasion of her territory only permitted her to form plans that resulted in his immediate expulsion from her room. “Why are you here?” Azusa asked, smoothing the photo out in its proper place once more without taking her eyes off the man.

Before he responded, Takumi removed his glasses, wiping them idly on his untucked shirt. Azusa faced her father fully, her pajamas doing a poor job of completing the intimidating stalwart defender of her land look that she was going for. “When my only daughter starts whimpering and crying in the middle of the night twice in a row, I tend to get concerned,” he reasoned out loud, brushing some stray hair out of his eyes as he put his glasses back on. “That was quite the awakening. Are you feeling alright?”

With a jolt, Azusa immediately recognized that she’d been put on the defensive. To claim she was perfectly fine would be a bold-faced lie in the face of what her father had seen, and the whole truth was something Azusa couldn’t properly explain herself, not when her useless head couldn’t even remember what it was dreaming about. Idle hands found hair to play with as Azusa raced to locate a solution before her silence became suspicious. _First mother brings me clothes, then father is checking on me while I sleep like I’m five. They must need something important of me. There weren’t any house visits scheduled this month though. Yet father is here and not at work, so something has to be happening, something immediate. I haven’t been paying enough attention. I’ll never let them blindside me again, even if they try to catch me off guard, prevent me from having a plan. That means there’s only one acceptable response. _“It was just a nightmare,” Azusa dismissed bluntly, removing her father’s need to show concern for her. “I’ve already forgotten it, so it’s nothing worth getting worked up over. I need to get ready for school now.”

Mr. Nakano stared solemnly at his daughter. Confident that he couldn’t pick apart what was technically true, Azusa met the stare evenly. She searched exhaustively for anything she could use to end the conversation aside from the concern in his eyes but came up empty. Slightly frustrated, she took a step forward in absence of her father’s reply, risking ceding the impact of her point to incite a reaction from her foe. “Father, you don’t need to worry yourself over me. I told you and mother I would keep my grades up,” she reminded the man, moving a hand to her chest as a show of conviction. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted, aren’t I?”

Sighing somewhat dramatically, Takumi ran a hand through his own mop of black hair. As his fingers vanished within a mess of black curls, he nodded towards Azusa’s guitar. “I want you to be able to talk to me openly, Azusa. I’m not your enemy. You might not believe me, but I’m Azusa’s father before anything else in life. That hasn’t changed since you were born. If you want to hold a grudge, that’s fine, but you won’t stop me from being your father.”

Azusa’s aversion to boldly and knowingly lying to get what she wanted apparently wasn’t a hereditary trait. She felt her fists clench and her toes curl in pent up fury as her father justified himself to her. Despite the room’s building animosity, Azusa’s training permitted her to maintain her cordial tone, and with a deep breath she was able to relax enough to continue. “I understand, father. People make mistakes. I already forgave you and mother, so there’s no need to go over this. I really do need to get ready, or I’ll be late. Tell mother I’ll come down shortly.”

Confident as her tone was, Azusa’s words rang hollow in the context of her actions, something she was well aware of. From the downcast expression on his face, Takumi had picked up on this sentiment as well. The man pushed himself up from the doorway, reaching his full height in time to roll the stiffness out of his shoulders. “Alright. I won’t force you,” he conceded, retreating a few steps out of the room. “But know that I don’t intend to give up. Breakfast is ready when you are. Please eat something with us before you leave.” A million unsaid words trailed behind Takumi as he strode out of Azusa’s sight and reentered the dark hallway.

“Because me dropping dead from starvation would be inconvenient, right?” Azusa muttered under her breath when she was certain she was alone once more.

The first thing Azusa did once she’d closed her door was inspect herself. Despite the abrupt nature of her awakening, everything appeared to be intact, though she didn’t exactly feel like she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. The clock on her nightstand told her there wasn’t much of a reason to rush in getting dressed, but Azusa had no intention of allowing her mind to ruminate on anything but the upcoming school day. Catching her expression in the mirror as she retrieved her uniform, Azusa huffed at herself. “What’s with that look?” she asked her reflection. “You can’t trust him or mother at all. Whatever’s going on, they’ll drop every pretense as soon as it’s over, just you wait. Be patient, just like with senpai.” The discussion could have been left at that had the photo Azusa had just stuck back to the wall lost its grip, fluttering to the ground at Azusa’s feet, as if it knew the girls in the picture were being discussed.

Already irascible from her morning interaction, Azusa scooped the picture up and pressed it more forcefully into the wall. When this instantly failed, an inspection of the back revealed that the adhesive had lost its most useful function. _Thanks, father. _Unwilling to delay her shower any further, Azusa tossed the picture in her school bag as a temporary storage location and proceeded to the bathroom.

Scalding water burned away any thoughts Azusa could have had, and so she only started to consider her position as she finished putting her uniform on and picked up her silent phone. She turned the device over in her palm as she combed her hair ineffectively with one hand. _It would be easy to turn it on. We could practice again, have tea, look at the photo album. But Ui-chan is right. Trying to approach any of them, especially Yui-senpai after the fight and what Yui-senpai did is a mistake. It’s a rough patch I don’t need to make worse. They’ll let me know when they’re okay again. Just because Yui-senpai messed up my original plan doesn’t mean I can’t find success with HTT if I don’t let them heal, so they don’t fizzle out. _Still, Yui’s insistence that she was good enough tugged at Azusa’s heartstrings, urging her to rescind her order of self-imposed distance. _No. I told her what she needed to hear. There’s nothing more that needs to be said. For the sake of both of us having a successful future, this is the only option. For the good of the band. _The resolve took root in Azusa’s mind as she pocketed her phone and put her hair up in her familiar pigtails. “The Nakano has to be stronger than her emotions. I won’t break down in front of anyone again, especially mother and father. That’s probably why they’re on my back right now. Don’t let them get involved with HTT. Get to school, keep your head down, and trust your senpais.” Setting a goal for the day, Azusa finished her preparations and made her way downstairs with her bags.

Passing the entrance to the kitchen where both of her parents sat, Azusa made the mistake of pausing to take in the enticing smell drifting from the room. Mr. Nakano glanced up from his paper, waving his daughter over in an overtly friendly manner. Mrs. Nakano beamed at Azusa, flipping a pancake at the stove like she’d been doing it her whole life. “Azusa! Good morning!” Rin greeted boisterously as Azusa threw away her plans for slinking by the room unnoticed. “Please, eat with us, eat with us! I made pancakes!” She indicated the pancake proudly, like it was a massive fish she’d caught.

Setting her expression to neutral, Azusa joined her parents in the kitchen, making sure to keep herself between her parents and her guitar. By the time she sat down, a cup of coffee and a pancake were already in front of her, a surreal sight that sent the youngest guitarist in the room back years in time. “Is it a holiday?” Azusa asked, wondering if her calendar was playing a prank on her.

Mrs. Nakano chuckled, taking her own seat across from her husband at the cozy three-person table. “If only, dear. Takumi here’s got the next few days off, remember? I thought we’d take advantage of the situation and eat together. I know you have school, but you can spare a minute or two, right?” Rin’s expectant look meant she knew very well how much time Azusa could spare.

Refraining from making a comment on how her sleep schedule was normal for someone her age, Azusa nodded wordlessly. Without a way of explaining away the thirty minutes or so she had to spare, Azusa quietly partook of the admittedly well-prepared meal in front of her. As she ate, letting her mother drone on about anything but an interesting topic while her father sipped his coffee contemplatively, Azusa felt an iota of guilt attempt to lower her guard. _Maybe they’re just trying to be nice. This isn’t terrible. But I can’t give in this easily, just because mother knows how to cook really good food. Focus up, Nakano. You know it’s coming. _With every sip of coffee, the world became that much crisper and clearer to the girl, allowing her thoughts to run away from her. _I need to start brewing my own coffee. Maybe I do sleep too much, like mother says. It’s not like turning in earlier makes the nightmares go away. In any case, I should be paying more attention. They’ll spring their real purpose any second now. _As Azusa demanded herself to refocus on her parents, she noticed that both of them were staring at her expectantly.

“Aren’t you excited, Azusa?” Mrs. Nakano repeated from her seat, cutting her pancake into edible squares. “We talked about this already, so I told them you were fine with it. It’s for you, after all. You didn’t forget and go making plans for tomorrow, did you?”

“Eh?” Azusa uttered rudely, looking up from her coffee. _This is bad. I missed what she was saying. When did we talk about this? Yesterday? Yesterday is a blur. I barely talked to anyone yesterday. Just now? I was drinking coffee. Shit. I need more information before I commit to anything, but I can’t let them know I wasn’t paying attention. Don’t lose before you even start!_

“I don’t have any other plans for tomorrow,” Azusa responded carefully. “Tomorrow evening, right?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Nakano responded matter-of-factly. “When else would you have a dinner? You can’t very well skip school either.”

Flipping the page on his paper, Takumi stroked his chin. “It should be interesting,” the man noted, tapping out a beat with his free hand as his reading balanced perfectly on his leg. “We haven’t had any lively company in the house in forever.”

_Right. Another visitor to the Nakano museum. I should have guessed they just wanted to show off their only living exhibit. I got riled up for no reason. _“I’ll make sure not to offend our guests, then,” Azusa retorted curtly, sliding her partially eaten breakfast away and standing up. “I should be off. I’ll see you tonight, mother.” Downing the last of her coffee, Azusa made for the exit, her parent’s goodbyes chasing her out the door.

_Remain strong. Everything will be exactly how it was after tomorrow. They’re just making sure I stay in line. Don’t dwell on this. Focus on school. _Despite her own encouragement, Azusa continued to catch herself musing on her unusual morning as she marched through the frigid November morning. _Cold. Father was home when he shouldn’t be. They’re acting like nothing happened, just like we tried to do earlier. Feels like I’m back in middle school. Feels warm. It’s better to just pretend painful things didn’t happen, isn’t it? But I can’t forget. I can’t pretend my senpais aren’t struggling. That’s why I absolutely can’t make things worse for them. All I have to do is be a good student at school. That way, Azusa Nakano can’t hurt anyone. That way, everyone can be successful. _The thoughts were her own and not at the same time, and the dissonance hurt Azusa’s head to the point that she started walking with one hand to her brow. “November is too cold,” she griped at the air forming in front of her face.

Arriving at school, Azusa’s thoughts were obfuscated by the urge to reach her desk. As long as she could reach her private oasis, she would be safe and warm, which was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Azusa did not look around for her senpais as she exchanged her shoes, and she didn’t need to talk to anyone about the cavalcade of conflicting emotions that had been building up in her since November 16th. When she dropped her guitar off in the clubroom for the day, Azusa did not linger longer than she should. There was no need to ask if she was doing the right thing, because she was. That’s what everyone else had said. She knew exactly where she stood with everyone, especially Yui thanks to her sister, so there was no need to bother her senpais. The hallways took longer to traverse when Azusa stalled after each step, dragging her feet as she didn’t wait for someone to call out to her. She lagged behind her traditional pace because she was tired, and no other reason. _Ui-chan and Jun-chan are probably at school by now. Ui-chan has been helpful, passing messages along. Jun-chan has been… present. I should hang out with them on Sunday. I’ll need a reason to be out of the house after that dinner, and it’s been a while since the three of us got together outside school. _Having a plan brought some light back into Azusa’s eyes, granting her ears access to some of the conversations her presence had apparently been dragging out of her fellow students as she wandered the halls.

“You heard about their keyboardist, right? She lost her entire arm!”

“That’s sad. I feel terrible for the kouhai, stuck with senpais who fight like that.”

“Makes sense that she’s the only one. You’d have to be insane or a masochist to stick with people like that this long.”

The poor excuses for whispers invaded Azusa’s space, making her desire her desk all the more. Last week, she’d have set whatever ignorant fools dared to spread lies about her and her friends straight, but after over a week of trying to do exactly that, she’d grown rather disenchanted with the endeavor and left the task to Ui. More specifically, since Yui’s reveal that she was partially responsible for the school’s rumor mill and that it didn’t bother her, the drive to fight the favorite pastime of the student body felt somewhat pointless._ Is this how news of our fight has spread already? Does nobody have anything better to do? Mugi-senpai obviously still has both of her hands. Morons. _Things could have been perfectly left at that had a familiar challenge not rang out in Azusa’s ears. “Excuse me, are you talking about the Light Music Club?”

Azusa jerked her head towards the voice of her friend. Ui was politely smiling at a group of four girls from her grade, all of whom became visibly tense at the younger sister’s presence. If the events of the past two days had curbed Azusa’s enthusiasm for conflict, they appeared to have only emboldened the drive within Ui. Stalling in the hallway, Azusa debated whether or not Ui needed her help as one of the four girls, a tall redhead and the obvious leader, took a daring step forward. “What’s it to you?” she challenged, unaware of her precarious position.

“I have several dear friends in the Light Music Club,” Ui explained patiently, her voice pleasantly empty of warmth. “It bothers me when people spread misinformation about my friends. If there’s something you’re curious about regarding the club, I’d be happy to inform you. You need only ask.”

None of the girls knew how to respond to that. From the sidelines, Azusa willed them to say nothing and walk away. Though Azusa knew a thing or two about getting her way, Ui was a professional. The light of recognition flashed in the eyes of the girl who had planted herself at the front of her clique. “I know you. You’re that guitarist’s little sister, aren’t you? Yeah, you’re a dead ringer for her. Is telling people off for badmouthing big sis’s club fun or you? If I were you, I’d be more concerned about how I was damaging my own reputation.” A simple glance backwards for support was all it took to get the three lackeys to nod in agreement with the lead girl’s assertion.

Azusa noted before any of the girls standing in front of Ui the clenching of her friend’s fists, the spark of frustration that shot through the younger sister before it was gone, lost to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. “I don’t care what people have to say about me,” Ui refuted. “I will not stand for the proliferation of baseless rumors about my sister.”

Noting the appearance of the redhead, with her unkept uniform and hostile posture, Azusa began to make her way over to the scene. Whatever Ui thought she was getting herself into, Azusa wasn’t about to let Yui have a panic attack because her sister thought she could avoid starting fights with delinquents through words. The wide berth the flow of foot traffic was giving the encounter was another encouraging sign. _Mou, is this your definition of laying low, Ui-chan? You’ll get the whole school hating us. This doesn’t work. It just makes people mad. _As she approached, a mousey brown-haired lackey borrowed some confidence from her leader and spoke up. “If they’re baseless, they wouldn’t spread this fast, would they? Did your sister put you up to this? Can’t she fight her own battles without sending her little sister to fix things for her?”

Unbeknownst to the girl, she’d pushed a button even Azusa would be terrified to push. Ui’s cheeks puffed up in rage, which probably looked cute to anyone who didn’t know Ui. Azusa picked up her pace as Ui jabbed a finger towards the girl who’d spoken. “Now you listen here,” she demanded, the shift in her tone startling her target as Ui’s composure fractured. “Onee-chan didn’t tell me to do anything. My only objective is to-“

“Not stir up trouble,” Azusa broke in, finishing Ui’s sentence for her while resting a hand on her friend’s shoulder reassuringly let firmly. “We all have better things we could be doing than gossiping, don’t we?” 

Personally, Azusa felt like she was doing the gaggle of girls in front of her more of a favor than Ui. Her hand was like leashing a tiger that several passersby had the nerve to poke with a stick. “Azusa-chan, I’ve got this,” Ui complained, shifting around uncomfortably under Azusa’s grasp. “I would never get violent with anyone.”

“They don’t know that,” Azusa shot back over the confused looks the four girls exchanged. “I don’t like what they’re saying either, but you’re not making things better. Come on, let’s get to class.” Ui remained uncertain, the urge to seek satisfaction for the slights against her sister’s honor making it difficult for her to retreat.

Thankfully, Ui eventually relented and allowed Azusa to lead her away with one final angry look at the group that had insulted her. Azusa was in the middle of patting herself on the back for diffusing the situation when the redhead spoke up again. “Hey, guitarist, it’s a shame about your band. Your performances were pretty good. Why don’t you tell us how the fight went down? If you got underneath your senpai’s skirt, surely you know a thing or two.” At the callout, Azusa stopped dead in her tracks.

Anyone who happened to be passing by at the moment quickly moved along. _Don’t respond to that. You’re better than that. Be strong. You’re supposed to be laying low. _“Nobody got under anybody’s skirt,” Azusa retorted, tightening her grip on Ui more for herself than for her friend. “Any fool would be able to see that. Go find someone else to bother.”

“Hey, she started it. We were just talking,” the leader claimed innocently. “Come on, guitarist. Can you do something besides pluck strings, run your mouth and walk away? Do you just not give a shit about your senpais?” the goading continued, but Azusa had stopped listening.

Azusa exchanged a look with Ui. She saw the same rage she felt accumulating within herself reflected in Ui’s eyes. It occurred to Azusa as her friend rose to meet her that escalating the situation might not be the best idea, as well as that she didn’t particularly care. _Maybe I should just do something stupid. Acting logically hasn’t worked out for the entire month. Ui-chan knows how to fight, right? I’ve never seen her actually attack someone, for all the times she looked like she was going to. No time like the present. _As soon as the thought passed her mind, Azusa regained the self-awareness to pinch her arm, shattering her dangerous momentum. _Come on, Nakano. You’re better than that. Think, then speak. _“That’s enough. We’re leaving,” Azusa told her friend, who apparently also had the presence of mind to nod.

Grateful that Ui had a better head on her shoulders than she had initially given her credit for, Azusa started off once more, only to stagger forward as she was shoved from behind. Stumbling, Azusa was only spared an impact with the ground by her connection to Ui, who managed to steady her friend like she’d been expecting this turn of events. Swinging around to face the culprit, the same redhead, Azusa finally let go of her self-control. “What the hell was that for?” Azusa spat at the girl.

“You think you can try and get in my face, tell me and my friends what we can and can’t talk about, then just leave like nothing happened? I’m not done talking to you yet, guitarist,” the girl insisted, maintaining a dangerous tone. “You know, an apology would go a long way here.”

“Then apologize,” came a booming voice from the observing crowd of students. “Move along, all of you. Nothing to see here.”

As the students listened to the man’s authoritative tone, Azusa took in the form of a man she recognized as one of the senior instructors Yui and Ritsu constantly complained about. Said man stared down both parties before shaking his head in disappointment. “Honestly, it’s every other day with you, Akira-san. Are you trying to get expelled? You’re skating like you don’t know how thin the ice you’re on is, young lady.” The man nodded to Azusa. “I saw what happened. Are you alright?” he asked, his voice surprisingly concerned.

Unable to form words, Azusa only nodded. “We’re okay,” Ui spoke up for the two of them. “Thank you, Mr. Horigome.”

Nodding curtly, Mr. Horigome turned his attention to Akira and her three friends. “Good. Get to class, then. Don’t let me catch you involved in something like this again, or I’ll assume it was your fault. Akira-san, come with me young lady. You have some explaining to do.” Without waiting for a response, the teacher stalked off down the hallway.

The redhead, apparently named Akira, tsked and spun around. “Whatever. I was just playing around. They’re not worth it.” Shoving her way past her own friends, Akira followed the teacher compliantly, hands shoved into her untucked blazer.

The small crowd that had gathered quickly dispersed, along with Akira’s lackeys. As soon as the offending girl was out of earshot, Azusa released Ui, allowing herself to breathe once more. _That was scary. I almost did something I’d regret again. We’re lucky that teacher happened by. _“You’re welcome, by the way,” Jun greeted her friends, emerging against the tide of moving students. “That could have gotten ugly if I hadn’t pulled that big dude aside and told him what was happening. Ne, why am I suddenly the voice of reason between you three? I thought you were done with this shit, Azusa.”

Realizing that Jun was the reason things hadn’t escalated, both Ui and Azusa bowed at the same time. “Thanks, Jun-chan. You really helped us out,” Azusa thanked gratefully. “I was just trying to help Ui-chan and I might have made things worse.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Ui apologized.

Unprepared for such genuine gratitude, Jun blushed. “Yeah? Well, I’m glad you appreciate my quick wit and intelligence. Can we finally be done with this rumor crap? It was tolerable when it was just our class, but you don’t want to cross people like Akira, not even you, Ui. That girl’s insane.”

Leading the way to their classroom, Ui’s brow creased. “You know a vulgar girl like that, Jun-chan?” she asked a bit suspiciously while ignoring Jun’s question.

“Yeah, we’re in the same gang,” Jun responded with a straight face for all of three seconds until Azusa smacked her on the shoulder. “Alright, alright. She was in the Jazz Club for all of a week before she got kicked out for picking three fights in two days. Her friends aren’t much better. You both should keep your distance. I don’t think she’s one to hold grudges, but I don’t know her very well,” Jun warned in a rare serious moment.

If the headstrong Jun was warning her about someone, Azusa was inclined to heed her warning without question. As they arrived outside their classroom 2-1, Ui bowed once more. “I apologize again, Jun-chan, Azusa-chan. I was reckless. I can see now that this is causing more problems than it solves.” The rather thorough apology drew a sigh of relief from Jun.

Tabling a scathing lecture, Jun patted Ui on the back when she straightened up. “Good. Let’s just be normal girls and not rumor vigilantes for a while, alright? I want to have a social life again.”

As Ui and Jun continued to chat pleasantly, a wave of unease washed over Azusa, preventing her from contributing to their conversation as her mind replayed the last five minutes. _I almost lost control again. It would have been really bad if I had. I have to be more careful. I have no reason to get riled up about things that aren’t true. I don’t feel that way about Yui-senpai, and our band is going to be fine, so I don’t need to get riled up. That’s all the more reason to stay the course, isn’t it? It makes Ui-chan and Jun-chan happy. It’s nice having them together. Things have been weird between them before today, I think. It’s hard to remember everything clearly. _“Azusa-chan,” Ui properly addressed her friend, snapping her out of her reverie. “Are you alright? I’m sorry again for dragging you into my mess. That girl didn’t hurt you, did she?” There was nothing but worry in Ui’s tone.

“No, I’m just fine,” came Azusa’s automatic response, complete with a wave of her hand to reassure her friends “I guess I’m just a bit frazzled. The rumors spread faster than I thought they would. How’s Yui-senpai today? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Honestly, she’s been less affected by the rumors than I could have reasonably hoped for. I’m just being overly cautious.” All three girls knew that wasn’t what Azusa was asking about, but nobody called Ui out on it. “More importantly, what happened to our plan, Azusa-chan? I thought you trusted me!” The sudden change in topic gave Azusa whiplash as she attempted to process what she had just been accused of.

Fully aware that she was being excluded from the conversation, Jun raised her head to the sky dramatically, as if praying for somebody to acknowledge her. Azusa knew that Jun knew what was going on through Ui, but she hadn’t a clue what the bassist thought of the whole situation. Since Jun had mocked her senpai in an eerily similar way to the rude girl in the hall, this was the most they’d interacted. Jun caught Azusa glancing at her instead of answering Ui’s question and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. You obviously don’t want my help with this, and I don’t want to get slugged by Ui. Leave me out of your mess.”

“Leave you out of what?” Azusa responded, bewildered. “I don’t know what either of you are talking about.”

At that, Jun’s diffident expression became confused, then concerned. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ui beat her to it. “Azusa-chan, Onee-chan already told me you were involved. Why would you assume I didn’t know? I thought we agreed that letting Onee-chan and the others sort things out themselves was the best option. Did you change your mind?” As Ui’s questions became more pressing, Azusa backed up a little. “Onee-chan told me that your mother-“

“Already discussed this with her daughter, so it’s a waste of time going over what everyone knows, right?” Jun finished for Ui. “Just let it go, will you? You’re stressing me out by being stressed out over every little thing you think is going wrong. It was hard enough just getting you to tell your best friend in the world Jun what was going on.” Guilt returned to Azusa’s conscious, but Ui was the one who responded, just as she had been for over a day.

“Jun-chan, your grievance is justified, but we’re talking about critical components of Onee-chan’s future here. I will not sit idle and-“

“Allow my sister to proceed down the path of ruination, yeah, you said something like that yesterday,” Jun interrupted for the second time in a row, stifling a yawn. “It won’t kill your sister to hang out with her friends. You know that, right?”

Ui huffed, pouting rather cutely. “T-that’s not my point! I’m doing what’s best for everyone! If I hadn’t stepped in, Onee-chan might have-“ Ui caught herself, returning to a neutral expression like nothing had happened. “My apologies. Azusa-chan has made her own decision. I’m only trying to help her stick to it.” The younger sister explained on behalf of her friend.

Shaking her head, Jun made way for some students to enter the classroom she was blocking unintentionally. Taking a circuitous route back to her friends, Jun jabbed a finger lazily towards Azusa while looking at Ui. “You and I both know she’s in denial about literally everything regarding your sister, loathe as I am to admit that now. I’ve been watching you both for the past few days. Azusa’s acting like the one who got rejected, and Ui, you’re more wound up than I’ve seen you in years. Maybe she does need to take this chance to rethink things.” A pointed shift in Jun’s glare to Azusa didn’t slow the indignant reddening of her cheeks.

“I still don’t know what we’re talking about!” Azusa blurted out, looking to steer the conversation anywhere else. “And you know what? I’m sick of talking about this. Ui-chan, whatever you’re thinking, my position hasn’t changed. Jun-chan, I’m sorry Ui-chan and I have been so belligerent this week. Can we take you out to lunch on Sunday to make up for it?”

Azusa’s invitation was met head on with Jun’s eager grin. “So the Nakano I know is in there somewhere. That’s the smartest thing you’ve said in a month, you know that? As long as you’re paying, I’m there. What say you, Ui? Can you get away from your kid for an hour or two?”

Ui gave Jun a look that melted all of her bravado before turning to face Azusa-chan. “Look, it’s not easy for me, but I do trust you, Azusa-chan. I hope letting you go through with this proves it. I look forward to Sunday, then, once I check that it’s okay with Onee-chan.” Ui held out a hand that Azusa took instantly.

Noticing this, Jun place her hands over the handshake, creating a strange sort of mess of a hands in that nobody was immediately able to untangle themselves from. Smiling, Azusa shook her head. _This is a much better method of doing something without thinking. It’s better I have something to take my mind off the club right now, until they’re ready. _“I still don’t know what you’re talking about, but I appreciate that, Ui-chan. And I don’t need your compliments, Jun-chan. I offered because that’s what I want to do, if you’re both free.”

Jun smirked at Azusa. There was something in her eyes that startled the guitarist, something warning her about a threat she couldn’t see, or so Azusa thought. Before she could confirm anything, Jun threw everyone’s hands up in the air in a cheer with no actual cheering involved. “Then it’s settled. Now let’s get inside. My shoulder is killing me from carrying my bag this long.” Another fight had been averted, but the way Jun had looked in that moment and how spirited the laid-back girl had spoken out against Ui made Azusa feel more like she was just kicking a can down the road. The idea disturbed her slightly, and she fought to shake it off as classes began. _I trust them, just like I trust my senpais. Jun-chan was more or less herself this morning. It’s just me that’s been acting strange. It’s as Ui-chan said. I should just listen to her and let things cool off. Be a good student, don’t rock the boat, don’t let them get too close or you’ll mess things up. That’s normal. That’s the one thing I’m good at. I’ll get them to tell me what they were talking about later. What I want can wait._

With little other recourse to find a reprieve from herself, Azusa immersed herself with a fervor she never knew she possessed in her studies. The lessons certainly weren’t interesting, but they didn’t try to confuse Azusa with their purpose or content. If nothing else, she knew exactly what was being expected of her right up until the first break of the day, and the monotony soothed her. As Azusa dutifully finished recording down the teacher’s blackboard notes over sound of the bell signaling break time, a senior Azusa didn’t recognize entered the classroom. She looked apathetic to the world around her, yet she carried an air of superiority to go with her yellow disciplinary committee armband that instantly put the kouhai and the other students who noticed her off. “Is there a Nakano here?” the girl called out, tilting her chin upwards condescendingly. “You out there, Nakano?”

Somewhat surprised to hear her name invoked by the disciplinary committee, Azusa rose from her seat. “Here.”

Frowning for no obvious reason, the girl sauntered over to Azusa and dropped a hall pass on her desk. “Go to the student council room. The student council president wants a word with you. No, I don’t know why, and no, I’m not going to walk you there. You probably know what you did. Now, I have important work to do. Return that to your next teacher before break ends.” Before Azusa could so much as thank the girl for her rude behavior, she was out the door. 

Shaking off the fetters of disgust cropping up from the holier-than-thou attitude the girl left behind, Azusa looked to her friends for guidance, but Ui only provided a shrug, and Jun was busy reading a manga she’d snuck into the school. Truly on her own, Azusa sighed and made her way out of the classroom. _So much for normal. Mou, what could Nodoka-senpai possibly want with me? It must have to do with this morning. But that teacher didn’t think I was to blame. The student council doesn’t handle fights, I don’t think. Why can’t they just leave me alone today? _Though she knew Nodoka and Yui were childhood friends, it struck Azusa as odd that outside of watching the president berate Ritsu for failing to turn in forms on time, she didn’t know much about Yui’s closest friend at all. _No time to find out more like the present, I suppose._

As she crossed the hallway and descended the stairs to the student council room, Azusa could feel frustration building up in her under each step. She had resolved to simply visit Nodoka and find the truth for herself, but that didn’t stop her mind from speculating. _It has to be about the rumors, then. But it’s not my fault people are talking, sort of. There’s nothing else I could have done for Yui-senpai, if this is about two days ago. I didn’t start that argument, though I guess I didn’t help. Someone like Nodoka-senpai should understand that. Maybe it’s something else. She probably knows I’m trying to let everyone bring themselves back together. She’s smart, like Mio-senpai. She won’t do anything to inconvenience my senpais. _Reassuring herself that everything would turn out fine, Azusa knocked on the student council room door and let herself in on Nodoka’s command.

Easing herself into the dimly lit room, Azusa was made small simply by the presence Nodoka carried from her position at an empty circle of desks. When the door opened, the student council president glanced up just long enough to confirm Azusa’s arrival before returning to filling out some form from a pile in front of her. The closest comparison Azusa had was to her unintentional crusade against her homework through the night several weeks ago, another result of Yui’s meddling. Contrary to that time, Nodoka was fully awake and alert, her laser focus entirely on the paper in front of her rather than wringing the neck of the person who put her in that position. Nodoka’s prim and proper demeanor, devoid of wasteful movements, brought out a feeling of inferiority within Azusa that she forced herself to swallow as she closed the door behind herself. “Azusa-chan, come in. Sit anywhere. Pardon my work, I have to get started on these during breaks or I’ll never finish at a decent time. It’s better than starting fights in the hallways though, right?”

Azusa barely had time to sit in her seat before Nodoka got to the point. “Nodoka-senpai, that other girl started it! She was insulting my club and Ui-chan got involved and I-“ Azusa’s excuses faltered when Nodoka raised her free hand for silence.

“You don’t need to justify yourself to me, Azusa-chan, or call me senpai. I wasn’t there, but knowing Ui and that Akira girl, I have a pretty good idea of what happened. You’re not in trouble, but I’d encourage you not to go looking for fights. I won’t be able to excuse any intentional violence on campus, not that it’s really my jurisdiction, thankfully.” Nodoka adjusted her glasses as she spoke surprisingly candidly, her gaze still trained on her paper and her rapidly swerving pen despite carrying on a conversation.

Unsure of how to respond, Azusa fidgeted in her seat. If the small smile that appeared on Nodoka’s face was amusement at Azusa’s unease, the president didn’t drop any additional tells that she was even paying attention to her guest, let alone interested in her. “It won’t happen again, I promise, Nodoka-san. But, if you didn’t call me here for that, why did you call me? Is it about Yui-senpai?”

Nodding as she replaced her completed form for a fresh one, Nodoka spun her pen in her hand once before beginning to write again just as the new paper settled on the desk. “To be frank, your incident this morning was convenient. It allowed me to call you here without any raised eyebrows.” Digging into her pocket, Nodoka withdrew a membership card Azusa was sadly very familiar with, sliding it over to the kouhai. “This is what I really need to speak with you about, and without your phone, this was the easiest way. As you know, I reluctantly inherited the title of president of the Mio Fan Club from the previous president in addition to my more important duties. As such, I’m used to the odd rumor regarding the Light Music Club here and there, but it’s gotten a bit out of control in the past few weeks, wouldn’t you agree?” Though she still hadn’t looked up, Azusa felt like she’d be shot dead where she sat if she so much as flinched in her seat.

Gulping, Azusa called on her mind to prepare a reasonable response. “The rumors regarding myself and Yui-senpai are false. The one about the fight is true, technically, but it’s been exaggerated greatly. I’ve already spoken with Ui-chan and Jun-chan, and we’ve decided to just let the rumors run their course. Trying to dispel them ourselves has only made things worse.” Azusa had to resist the urge to bow like she’d seen politicians caught in scandals do after finishing an apology, her legs and feet twisting around themselves as her anxiety manifested where she hoped Nodoka couldn’t see.

Nodoka’s pen stalled. She appeared to be lost in thought, the tip of her instrument balancing precariously on the atoms of air between itself and the paper. Made uncomfortable by the ambiguous silence, Azusa struggled not to fidget and fill the empty room with the grating of her chair. Nodoka’s presence practically ordained respect, as if she was facing a teacher rather than a peer or even a senpai. It would have been more admirable to Azusa were she not distracted trying to figure out how Nodoka tolerated being friends with someone like Yui. “You’re very blunt, much more so than your senpais. Oh, that’s not a bad thing. I could use more girls like you in the student council, but I digress. I’ve received most of the story from Mio and some of it from Yui, but I wanted to get your opinion. I’m just trying to sort out what’s true and what isn’t without, as you stated, making things worse by asking around directly, given my position.” As soon as she stopped talking, Nodoka began writing, her pen advancing that much more quickly to regain the ground lost to time.

Her purpose here revealed, relief shot through Azusa. It made perfect sense that someone in Nodoka’s position couldn’t just go asking around about club drama, particularly a club she had such close ties to. _If that’s all she wants, I can stay the course. Maybe she’ll be able to help the others where I couldn’t. _“Then please, tell me what you need to know,” Azusa insisted, leaning forward in her seat. “I want to help.”

“Why’d you reject Yui?” Nodoka immediately asked without missing a beat. “She’s a nice girl, if a bit daft. You could do worse.”

The question Nodoka had just asked as if she was asking Azusa to pass her a piece of paper took the kouhai aback. She stuttered for a full second before she managed to respond properly. “W-what? Why does that matter? It’s between us! What does that have to do with the rumors? I mean, I get what it has to do with some of them, but ah, it was just a dumb mistake, okay? I’m not going to let that get in the way of the Light Music Club, so there’s no need to bring it up!” In her frantic backpedaling from her offer, Azusa nearly fell out of her seat waving her arms in front of her and eventually settling for slamming them on the table while standing up.

Azusa’s frantic defense prompted Nodoka to actually look up from her work as her stack of papers was jostled by the guitarist’s slam. “Your starting the rumor was a mistake, or your rejecting Yui was a mistake?” she asked, adjusting the stack into a neat pile with one hand.

“Yes and no!” Azusa exclaimed, before realizing she was still yelling and quieting herself. “That is, my mistake was starting the rumor, though I found out Yui-senpai has been spreading it unintentionally too. I believe it will pass with time though, so there’s no need for further action. Sorry for losing my head.”

Smiling over her work, Nodoka motioned for Azusa to sit once more. “You don’t have to try so hard to be respectful, Azusa-chan. Yui’s descriptions of you were shockingly accurate, you know. She must really like you. Well, you’re mostly right. If it wasn’t affecting the club and your futures, the rumors, or rather their source, wouldn’t be my business. To understand what happened to the atmosphere of the club most of my friends attend, I need to understand them.” The deduction was perfectly logical to one of the girls in the room, leaving the other one perplexed.

“The atmosphere?” Azusa repeated, her heartbeat slowing over Nodoka’s compliment. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s no secret that things are tense between you and your friends in my class right now,” Nodoka admitted as she snatched a new form, just quickly enough to avoid disturbing the rest of the stack she had finished organizing. “Specifically, from Yui and Mio, though they’re hiding it well enough. As the governing body for the students and Yui’s friend, I’ve taken it upon myself to lend her a hand. Thus, I’d like to speak with you about what’s behind the atmosphere of the club.” Lowering her head, Nodoka’s rhythmic work persisted.

Whatever part of Azusa had told her that telling Nodoka she’d tell her anything was a good idea was currently being yelled at in Azusa’s mind. “The atmosphere will recover,” Azusa told the president. “Everyone just needs some space, that’s all. Ui-chan suggested having my phone off, so I did that to not worry them. I absolutely can’t make things any worse for them.” If there was anything Azusa could be certain of, it was her last line, and she endeavored to make Nodoka understand that with her tone.

Tapping her pen to her chin, Nodoka frowned in a way that made Azusa feel like she was being forced to chew ice cream. “That doesn’t sit quite right with me. Yui’s never complained about your presence, and I’ve heard her complain about the floor being too shiny. You’re never one of Yui’s messes that I’ve had to clean up. Quite the contrary, it’s nice to know the Light Music Club has a voice of reason. Do you really think this plan of yours is wise?”

_It has to be. I can’t entertain the alternative. _“Yes,” Azusa answered, without a clue as to where she was borrowing her confidence from. “My senpais just need time to figure out what they want. They always figure things out eventually.” Like she’d been called on to answer a question in class, Azusa tried to sit down in the seat she forgot she was already sitting in.

Smiling calmly over Azusa’s humiliated blush, Nodoka’s glasses glinted mischievously. “Oh? Then perhaps this next part will be as informative for you as it is for me.”

Before Azusa could ask what that meant, the room’s door exploded open. “Nodoka-chan, what’s… oh God… what’s…. need air… the emergency?!” Yui cried out, doubled over in exhaustion. “I came really… fast… Eh? Azu-nyasa-” Yui stuttered, teetering between saying Azusa’s name properly and using her nickname.

It was hard for Azusa to process what she was looking at. She blinked several times, going so far as to rub her eyes as she took in Yui’s appearance. She hadn’t so much as sensed the presence of someone trying to hug her since the 16th, and what bothered her now was that she still couldn’t. Aside from being out of breath, Yui looked exactly how Azusa remembered seeing her two days ago, complete with a crooked blue ribbon on her uniform. Of all her features, it was Yui’s fading smile that Azusa became fixated on as the senpai and kouhai locked eyes.

Azusa wanted to say something, ask Yui how she was, apologize, tell her she’d been waiting to hear from her, but it was like a wall had been erected between them. All attempts at speaking sputtered and died in Azusa’s throat. _What do I say? Is now the right time? Can I talk to her now? _“Yui-senpai, I…” Azusa started, only to abruptly turn around.

“Sorry, wrong room! Didn’t meant to interrupt, Azu-nyan!” Yui declared before bolting for the exit, nearly colliding with the wall in her rush to escape. “Bye, Nodoka-chan! Let me know what the emergency was later!”

Azusa’s words vanished into the ether. Once again, Yui had subverted her expectations in an annoyingly critical moment. _What the hell was that? She was almost acting scared of me, but that’s probably just because she was startled. But something else was off. It’s like she had some wall between herself and me. Like… some weird game of hers? No, Ui-chan said she was fine. _

_Ui was lying._

Jun’s voice rang idly in Azusa’s head, a memento of the look she’d received at the beginning of the day. The image sat conspicuously in Azusa’s head for a moment too long before she managed to shake it out. _Or Ui-chan is choosing not to pay attention. _

Wanting to ask a voice in her head what she meant would probably get her committed somewhere, so Azusa settled for turning back to Nodoka. The senior’s expression hadn’t shifted once since Yui arrived and promptly left. “Interesting,” was all she said, making a note on a nearby notepad. “Well, Yui is still Yui, at least.”

“What just happened?” Azusa managed to ask. “You expected her to do that? What’s wrong with you? Oh, sorry.”

“Please, speak your mind,” Nodoka encouraged. “Watching her act so casual yesterday after what happened sparked my curiosity. Also, it’s funny when she gets flustered. Doesn’t this work out well for your plan?”

It became apparent to Azusa that she’d grown complacent in her ability to play mind games. Constantly playing against lightweights like Yui and Ritsu had dulled her senses, something a more proficient player like Nodoka happily exploited. “I… don’t know. No, wait, yes!” Azusa insisted. “So nothing’s wrong. I need to get back to class. Jun-chan and Ui-chan will worry for me.” Azusa rose from her seat, but her stance was flimsy, practically begging to be halted.

“Hold on,” Nodoka ordered, indoctrination keeping Azusa firmly planted to the ground. “Give me another moment, please. I want to help you all.”

_It doesn’t feel like it. _Azusa desperately wanted to say that, but tact stayed her tongue. Even if she was Yui’s friend, Azusa wasn’t about to push her luck by drawing the ire of the most powerful student on campus towards the Light Music Club. “If you want to help, then let them figure things out without us,” Azusa explained in what she hoped sounded like an authoritative tone. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. They don’t need to be around me.”

“So you say,” Nodoka mused, beginning her work anew. “What I just saw is proof that they depend on you. Yui’s taking cues from you on how to behave, especially now. She thinks you’re mad at her, even if she won’t say it. She can’t read your mind, Azusa-chan.”

Pushing down the feeling that Nodoka was right, Azusa rose from her seat. “I have no right to let myself break down like a child in front of her after I rejected her like that,” the younger guitarist asserted. “To complain when I’ve already been given so much by them would be absurd. This whole month, I’ve only been screwing things up by letting my emotions get the better of me, and it has to stop here. I trust them, Nodoka-san.”

Nodoka set her pen down. Her gaze was that of a real senpai, one Azusa was sure she’d be proud to look up to in different circumstances. “I was hoping you’d be a bit more open with me and yourself, truthfully, Azusa-chan. If you trusted them, you’d be acting more on your own whims, wouldn’t you?”

Azusa was taken aback, nearly tumbling back into her seat. _How can she tell? Nodoka-san can’t actually read minds, can she? No, don’t start this again! Stay calm! _“I appreciate your willingness to help,” the younger guitarist responded, bowing. “I will do my best to ensure I and my club don’t trouble you in the near future. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

Sighing, Nodoka crossed through some lines on her current form. The action felt more final than Azusa would have preferred, even if her perceived interpolation between Nodoka’s words and actions was a superficial comparison. “I wish I could hold you to that, Azusa-chan, but I can’t. I want to help Yui and Mio, who happen to be in your club, so I’m sure we’ll be speaking again sooner rather than later. For now, though, I have another meeting to take before break time ends. If you’ve nothing else to say, you may leave.”

Nodding at someone who wasn’t looking at her, Azusa made to leave quietly, only for the sudden cessation of writing to halt Azusa’s movement right as she reached the door. She glanced back to find Nodoka staring at her. Embarrassment crept up on Azusa as she held the gaze far longer than she anticipated having to. “Sorry about that,” Nodoka eventually apologized, looking away with just a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “Give Ui my regards. And have a bit more faith in your senpais. They’re more mature than you think.” With that, the meeting truly ended.

Nodoka was the polar opposite of her best friend, and Azusa could feel the differences grating against her. As much as she loathed Yui’s laidback personality, she’d grown disappointingly used to it. Having someone so much like who Azusa aspired to be around only reminded her how far she had to go as she stepped out of the room, several justifications for her pathetic defense of her stance crossing her mind. _You have the wrong idea. I’m sorry I couldn’t do what Yui-senpai and Mugi-senpai wanted, but I can’t feel that way. It’s not that there’s nothing there, it’s just that I- _Reentering the hallway without even bothering for the propriety of a goodbye, Azusa’s mind ran further and further away from her. _It’s complicated. It shouldn’t be but it is. Entertaining what Yui-senpai is offering isn’t possible right now, so I don’t need to consider how I feel about it. It’s not doing what other people want, it’s doing what’s best for me, for my future. I have to succeed, find a way to shine, with or without them. This is the best way to help everyone. I can help by refusing to move. That’s what it means to face myself. No matter how much it hurts, I can’t move. _“Did you want me to ask your permission to enter?” someone outside of Azusa’s sphere of existence asked.

“I can’t move,” Azusa thought aloud to the mysterious voice. “Even if it hurts.” Only when the second line came out did Azusa pause long enough to realize she should probably look at who she was speaking carelessly to.

“What, is this your rebellious phase now? Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to wrangle you too this afternoon, Nakano,” Ritsu joked from her spot against the wall next to the student council room. 

Thanking every god she knew that she was talking to someone who wouldn’t think she was crazy, Azusa calmed herself quickly. “Ritsu-senpai,” she addressed affably, pretending the previous lines hadn’t happened. “What are you doing here? I thought you were ditching school again.”

Ritsu scoffed, kicking off the wall fast enough to wrap an arm around her kouhai casually before she could react. She began to rub Azusa’s head cruelly with her knuckle as she responded. “I go away for a day and you’ve already completely forgotten about poor old Ritsu, huh?” the drummer lamented over Azusa’s complaining. “I’ll have you know I’m a very diligent club president, and I was worried about my irreplaceable club members. You should feel bad for talking down to me like that.”

“Okay, I feel terrible, I’m sorry!” Azusa whined, the mixture of pleasure and pain erasing the self-restraint her dignity normally demanded.

Satisfied, Ritsu let her kouhai go for the moment. “Eh, could have used some more emotion, but I’ll let it go for today,” she deigned. “It’s good I caught you here. We have an important meeting after school today. Don’t be late.”

Azusa huffed, smoothing her hair out while she glared at the president. “Wait a second, Ritsu-senpai. Why didn’t you tell me you were back? You didn’t even say hi when I saw you outside the gate yesterday!”

“I can’t talk to someone who doesn’t have their phone on, and rain makes vision hard, sue me,” Ritsu fired back, dangling her own phone in Azusa’s face. “More importantly, meeting. You. Me. Mio. Mugi. Yui. Deep personal secrets. It’s gonna be great. Don’t miss it or you’re banned from teatime for a week.”

Color started to drain from Azusa’s face. She hadn’t planned on returning to the clubroom so soon, and Ritsu could tell. In her ideal world, Yui would have come to her and told her they had fixed everything without running off like a scared puppy. The idea of confronting the reason behind Yui’s behavior sent an odd chill up Azusa’s spine. _What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t care what Yui-senpai thinks. I’m the one hurting her. If I let my heart start bleeding, I won’t be able to think logically. Avoidance is the only way I can make this work. _“Look, I know what you’re thinking, maybe. Don’t run away from this now. We’re all responsible for this mess, so I’m going to make sure we all fix it. I’m serious. No teatime. I’ll get Nodoka to lock the tea cabinet and everything.”

“You can’t do that!” Azusa protested, before realizing how much of her hand she was showing. “I mean, I don’t care, but you’ll drive Yui-senpai insane! More importantly, Yui-senpai doesn’t want to be in the same room as me after what happened. I don’t want to force her into this.”

Ritsu only shook her head good-naturedly. “I saw that little debacle just now. I don’t know the details and I don’t need to. Don’t worry about your crush, alright? I’ll drag her kicking and screaming if I need to. Just make sure you show up for practice, got it? Oh, and turn your phone back on already.”

“She’s not my crush!” Azusa protested. “And I’ll think about it. I don’t want to make anyone worry.”

Almost immediately, Ritsu rolled her eyes. “You’re doing that already, no matter what you do, so you might as well show up and see where this ride goes with us if we’re gonna worry either way. Think about it, alright?”

Before Azusa could respond, the door next to them opened, revealing an irate Nodoka. “Are you done messing around with your kouhai?” she asked irritably. “Break time doesn’t last forever, Ritsu-chan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ritsu waved off nonchalantly, before turning to Azusa one more time. “Call the meeting an order from the club president if it makes you feel better. You and Yui are two parts of a whole HTT. Don’t forget that.” With that, Ritsu followed her fellow president with a wave of her hand, mumbling about the woes associated with her position.

Nodoka nodded once to Azusa before shutting the girl out of the conversation. It hadn’t occurred to Azusa that Nodoka’s other meeting was with someone she knew as she turned back towards her classroom absentmindedly. The kouhai withdrew her phone and stared at it, as if waiting for it to tell her her next move. _Parts of a whole… If I’m going to meet them all after school, maybe I should go ahead and turn it back on. Then again, it can probably wait until after our meeting. I don’t know what Ritsu-senpai’s thinking, but I should respect Yui-senpai’s space while I can. She’ll come to the meeting if she wants to. _The bell rang to end break time as Azusa made her decision, prompting her to return to her classroom.

Pocketing her decision for later, Azusa took off for the rest of her day, suddenly far less interested in her next class than she had been before the break. It was one of many effects of the Light Music Club she’d grown accustomed to over the last two years, but this time, knowing that not everyone was necessarily waiting for her, Azusa couldn’t decide how she felt, only that she couldn’t think about anything else.

* * *

**November 18th, Exactly Four Seconds After the Final Bell**

Tsumugi flew out of her chair like a falcon diving for its prey. It would have been ideal to practice the motion in the hours she had leading up to the school day ending, but she couldn’t completely ignore her lessons for the day, and jumping in and out of her seat would probably disturb her classmates. Ritsu was lucky, having a position so close to the front entrance to the room. Yui had no reason to target that exit. Mio wasn’t nearly as close to the back door as Tsumugi, never mind her willingness to go along with Ritsu’s scheme. What this all meant was that preventing Yui from fleeing the room after school was a burden Tsumugi had to shoulder alone. After the 11th, Tsumugi personally questioned the wisdom of telling Yui there was an important meeting she had to attend after school, reaffirmed by Yui’s lack of an affirmative response up to this point. However, she wasn’t about to oppose anything Ritsu said when she was openly talking to her again, and it wasn’t as if the proposed meeting didn’t align with her own goals. _Yui-chan got hurt because I’ve managed the situation poorly. That’s why I should be the one to fix it, for her sake, Azusa-chan’s sake, and for everyone else. I won’t let my family down again! _Tsumugi’s bravado carried her all of three steps before a blur of motion darted past her.

The head start of being two rows closer to the door Tsumugi had over her quarry was erased instantly by Yui’s reaction time. The starting gun of the bell should have served as a fair starting point for both girls, but Yui had either taken up running in her spare time, which was unlikely, or she’d somehow started early. Regardless of the reason, Yui could be terrifyingly quick for a girl who spent most of her days lazing around and eating food. Tsumugi’s first mistake was taking the time to mull over these thoughts instead of directly pursuing the guitarist. Her second mistake was looking to Ritsu for help when she realized that she was being left behind. Already at her designated door, Ritsu gestured angrily towards the fleeing Yui, telling her to focus on her task with her hands. By the time Tsumugi processed these mistakes and reached the back door, Yui was gone, leaving behind a winded Tsumugi and most of the class staring at the odd spectacle. “Fast…” Tsumugi panted, watching her friend disappear down the hallway.

Deciding to make a tactical retreat, Tsumugi backed herself back into the classroom. _Perhaps we won’t be able to meet up today. I should have brought a cake to cajole Yui-chan into staying. Mou, Mugi, get it together! _Slapping both of her cheeks lightly caused Tsumugi to wince as she accidentally agitated her injured hand. “That’s why I didn’t bother chasing her,” Mio commented, appearing next to Tsumugi with her bag slung over her shoulder. “She’s faster than she looks.”

“What do we do, then?” Tsumugi asked, fretting with her hands. “Ricchan says everyone needs to be present. We need her!”

Mio pursed her lips. She took a half step backwards, making real the distance Tsumugi had felt from her friend since their argument. Once more, the urge to simply apologize and tell Mio she hadn’t meant what she said welled up in Tsumugi, but she ignored the pressure building within her. _You have every right to be upset, but I can’t apologize yet. Until everyone else speaks their minds, I shouldn’t speak mine. I’m just trying to help, Mio-chan. I can’t give up, not when nobody else has either. Ui-chan hasn’t given up either, which means I still have a chance. _“I’m going to the clubroom,” Mio informed the blonde as the rest of the class lost interest in watching the girls and began to file out themselves. “You and the baka can go try to track down Yui-chan if you want. Someone should be there so Azusa-chan doesn’t get worried or panic.” Without waiting for Tsumugi’s agreement, Mio blew past her friend coldly and made for the clubroom.

“Well, she’s as surly as ever,” Ritsu noted, approaching where Tsumugi had been left standing with a pensive expression. “Guess I don’t deserve things being easy. Come on, you. I thought this might happen. We’re going after her.” Once more, Tsumugi found herself being dragged out of the clubroom before she could have a chance to respond.

Being yanked around might have bothered Tsumugi on any other day, but just having all of her friends speaking to her semi-normally quelled her indignation, even allowing her to blush as she was led along. _One note at a time. Getting hurt now is worth keeping us together in the long run. _“R-right!” Tsumugi agreed as she and Ritsu exited the classroom. “Should we check the roof again?”

“I had Nodoka lock it in case this happened,” Ritsu explained curtly. “If we hurry, we can catch her trying to find somewhere else to hide. We’re taking the long way to cut her off.” Without inviting further conversation, Ritsu released the keyboardist and took off in the direction of the clubroom and the roof entrance.

Tsumugi proceeded without protest, barely able to keep up with Ritsu’s speed, even with the drummer’s bag slowing her down. _Wait, did I leave my bag in the classroom? Oh well. I’ll retrieve it later._ The blonde’s steps pounded unevenly as she jogged after the drummer, fighting to maintain a constant pace as Ritsu’s long strides pulled her towards their destination. “Ricchan, could we slow down a little? I’m not as fast as you are,” Tsumugi requested between breaths.

Though it visibly irked her, Ritsu slowed herself to a brisk power walk at Tsumugi’s request. Gratefully, Tsumugi found herself now able to keep up easily with Ritsu’s pace. The downside was that the frown Ritsu had adopted only seemed to deepen with every step they took. _Is she that desperate to catch Yui-chan? I suppose there’s a chance she just goes home. That would be problematic. _As they went on, a different sort of unease crept up on Tsumugi over the silence between her and her normally talkative friend. “Ricchan, are you still mad at me?” Tsumugi asked, somewhat nervously.

Without slowing down, Ritsu abruptly rounded a corner. Tsumugi had to take a step backwards to prevent Ritsu from slamming into her. By the time she’d caught up to the drummer again, she had an answer prepared. “Short answer: yes. Long answer: I trusted you with my old feelings, Mugi. Don’t expect me to just get over something like that in day or two. I’m here to make things right with Mio and the others, not you. Not yet, anyways.” The words stung worse than her hand ever could.

“I… I had assumed as much,” Tsumugi admitted to both herself and Ritsu. “I understand, Ricchan. I still feel like I did what I needed to do, but my method of telling Mio-chan was wrong, and I went about things the wrong way. For that, I have to apologize. Please don’t hate me over this!” It was tempting to tear up, but Tsumugi didn’t want Ritsu to accept her apology out of pity.

Ritsu stalled by the stairs, as if she’d forgotten which way to go. The drummer cast a look to the mostly composed Tsumugi, debating something internally. “Hate you? You’re still my friend, Mugi,” Ritsu told the keyboardist matter-of-factly. “I don’t hate you, I think you did something really stupid and brought up something that never needed to be brought up, something I have to address now that Mio’s going to take way too seriously, which is a pain. That aside, friends are allowed to be mad at each other, aren’t they? Just don’t give me another reason to mistrust you anytime soon, and we’ll call it fair.”

Tsumugi was unsure of how to respond. Most of her relationships balanced on an all or nothing scale, with no grey matter between love and hate, friendship and apathy. She hadn’t been raised to give people second chances. Ritsu’s description of the situation didn’t fit in with any of her positive stigmas, but she didn’t find herself in the position to talk semantics with the drummer. “Yes, Ricchan,” Tsumugi agreed, defaulting to politeness in an unfamiliar situation. “I hope you’ll forgive me soon.”

The only response Ritsu dignified that with was a small, ambiguous wave of her hand before she looked up the stairs. “We didn’t pass Yui in the hall taking the long way, and Mio took the direct route to the clubroom, so she’d have caught Yui if she went that way. That means she either didn’t go to the roof, or she somehow got past Mio.” It hadn’t occurred to Tsumugi that Mio’s brisk exit had anything to do with Ritsu’s plan, but thinking about it now, it made perfect sense to have a second pincer plan in place following the classroom plan.

“So what now?” Tsumugi asked, getting absorbed in the moment. “How do we catch the perpetrator? Where would she go if she couldn’t get to the roof?”

“Not much we can do but wait,” Ritsu admitted in frustration, folding her arms and closing her eyes broodingly. “The perpetrator has to come back for Giita at some point. If she had managed to swipe that, Mio would have told me. I would have preferred to tell Nakano to be on the lookout too, but the kid still hasn’t turned her phone on.”

It impressed Tsumugi how well thought out Ritsu’s plans could be for such a strange game they were playing. The two fell into silence as they waited for news from Mio or Yui to appear, seconds stretching out into long minutes. Though Tsumugi would have preferred to converse with her friend, she didn’t know what to say to get Ritsu to talk to her, and she was scared of rubbing the drummer the wrong way. She badly wanted to know if Ritsu meant to discuss her feelings with Mio, but the way Ritsu had carried herself all day and their exchanged words just now suggested that would be a bad idea. _I wish we had tea to fill the gap in conversation. All I can do now is keep up appearances and wait for my chance to make everything right. I can tolerate them being mad at me. It’s not too late to fix things. I… don’t want to lose them. _Noticing Tsumugi’s expression, Ritsu frowned. “You alright, Mugi? Is it your hand? I do apologize for that, by the way. I can’t pay for your teacup, but I’m sorry anyways.”

Snapping her gaze upwards, Tsumugi shook her head chiding herself for making Ritsu worry. “Oh, no no, Ricchan, it’s fine. I covered the bill already. I’m just tired, I suppose. All this running around, planning, working towards keeping the club intact. So much background work. There’s nothing wrong with the background, I’m just tired.”

Ritsu didn’t say anything for a moment, taking in the attempt at reassurance Tsumugi put into her tone. “Can you do me a favor, Mugi?” the drummer asked, looking at the ceiling.

Eager to be helpful, Tsumugi perked up. “Yes! Anything!”

“Calm the hell down,” Ritsu encouraged her friend, placing a hand on her shoulder. “In this whole group of morons, myself included, you’re the only one I can count on to keep a clear head right now. I needed a day to figure out where I stood, and I’m still not sure if this is the best move. Understand? If you’re really sorry, let me count on you to help me fix our mistakes, alright? Because we’re both going to screw some shit up in the near future, and I want to be able to count on you and the others when it happens.” Ritsu shot Tsumugi a small smile, the one that meant the world to the keyboardist.

_Ricchan…you’re so strong. She’s counting on me. That means I have to earn her trust back even more. _“I can do it!” Tsumugi exclaimed. “I won’t let you down, Ricchan!”

“That’s not exactly what I meant by calming down, but you get points for enthusiasm, I guess,” Ritsu commented, running a hand through her short hair. “Maybe I’m being too optimistic. Yui might have found a way to slip by everyone. She could be halfway home by now.”

“She’ll turn up,” Tsumugi encouraged for the sake of it. “I believe in her.”

Ritsu scoffed. “People never behave exactly the way you want them to. Life isn’t just going to drop her into our laps.” Life responded by causing Ritsu’s phone to ring.

Retrieving the device from her pocket, Ritsu practically slammed the phone to her ear. “Yeah?” she started brusquely.

“Okay. Really? Mou, of course she did. Alright, fine, we’ll be right there.” With a click, Ritsu sighed and faced an expectant Tsumugi. “She’s in the classroom.”

Validation brought a knowing smile to Tsumugi that said far more than she ever could with words. Ritsu noticed the triumph in Tsumugi’s eyes and turned away defensively. “Don’t say it,” she warned, jabbing a finger back the way they came. “We have other places to be.”

“Say what?” Tsumugi asked innocently, playing with the bandages on her fingers. “I’m just glad Yui-chan turned up. It has nothing to do with being proven right that believing in Yui-chan was the right move.” The condescending look Tsumugi received didn’t dampen her mood.

“Right, of course, my mistake,” Ritsu sarcastically responded before starting to make her way back. “Let’s get back before she runs off again.”

As they returned to class, Tsumugi felt a pang of wild sadness strike her. _She’s acting more like the Ricchan I know. What changed? Does it matter? I suppose not. Whatever makes her happy. _It didn’t necessarily matter to Tsumugi in the moment if she was happy or not about that thought.

Reaching their classroom after a silent jog, Tsumugi opened the door to the sight of Nodoka and Yui as the only occupants of the room. The cleaners had evidently finished their work for the afternoon and gone home, leaving Nodoka and Yui alone. When the door opened, Nodoka looked up gratefully while Yui remained focused on something behind Nodoka’s back in her seat. “Good, you’re here. Take your club member with you. She’s being moronic.”

“Nodoka-chan stole my bag!” Yui whined, trying to reach behind her friend towards what Tsumugi now identified as Yui’s school bag. “My stuff is in there!”

“You forgot your school bag when you ran off,” Nodoka corrected. “I was just waiting for you to come back for it.”

“I did?” Yui asked, holding a finger to her chin in confusion. “Are you sure?” The cute nature of her question didn’t offset the fact that she was still trying to reach for the bag where she thought Nodoka couldn’t see.

Tsumugi wanted to slap herself again. _Why didn’t I realize that? I forgot my bag too. No wonder Yui-chan was able to leave so quickly. And Nodoka-chan figured out that she could just wait for Yui-chan to get her bag so quickly… _Ritsu raised her palms upwards and shook her head. “Figures. Well, we were going to have to come back for Mugi’s bag anyways. Are you done running yet, private? We have adulting to do.”

The word brought a shiver down Yui’s spine. Watching her scramble for an excuse in her head was somewhat heartbreaking, but there was nothing Tsumugi could do as Yui shuffled her feet nervously. The guitarist eventually straightened out, saluting pointlessly. “Captain! I request a leave of absence!”

“Denied,” Ritsu bluntly shot down. “Only the captain takes days off.”

Nodoka huffed. “If only that were true,” she lamented, no doubt thinking of her own presidential duties.

Tsumugi used the time to retrieve her own school bag. “Yui-chan, I think it’s a good idea for us all to have a conversation about the last few days. I’m sure Azusa-chan is worried about you, perhaps even more so than we are. We can’t run from this forever. Ask Ricchan.” The heiress indicated her partner with her free hand.

Ritsu started. “Watch it, you,” she warned before clearing her throat and trying again. “That wasn’t necessary, but I agree, I guess. Yui, whatever you’re feeling, you’re not going to make it better by avoiding Nakano. I… get it.”

For an instant, Yui’s visage grew grim. “Do you, Ricchan?” Yui challenged, finally giving up on retrieving her bag in favor of meeting Ritsu’s claim head on. “Have you sat down and talked to Mio-chan since three days ago? Did Mio-chan reject you then invite you over for dinner through her mother without even talking to you? How am I supposed to feel about that? Are you scared of being in the same room as Mio-chan because you don’t want to upset her? Ne, tell me, Ricchan, because I don’t know.”

The president winced, looking away. The dinner invite Azusa’s mother had extended her felt like a far-off memory to Tsumugi, one she had accepted without really thinking about it. When she’d received the call early in the morning yesterday, she’d assumed it had something to do with Yui and Azusa’s meeting the day before. She could still remember jumping around in excitement at her presumed victory and getting rather tired afterwards. Coming back to the topic, Azusa’s moves made far less sense than she originally thought. “Honestly, I don’t know either. I don’t know what’s going through our kouhai’s head, or anyone’s for that matter, and that’s why, as the leader here, I’m holding this powwow of ours today. It feels like we’re all on the same page of different books. Look, I, well, uh, yeah.” Ritsu’s train of thought stalled and stopped as she searched for the right words to cajole the moody guitarist into joining her.

“Yui-chan, you’re not alone,” Tsumugi stepped in for her friend. “No matter what happened between the two of you, all of us want to help you, whether we understand or not. Don’t give up on Azusa-chan yet. She wants to reach the same future we do. You were there for us when we needed you, so let’s all be there for her when she’s uncertain.” Conviction poured from Tsumugi’s voice, honey sweet yet startlingly firm.

“Romance aside, she doesn’t want to lose her band yet,” Ritsu finished for Tsumugi, eyeing the keyboardist carefully. “If nothing else, give her the peace of mind that you’re okay by telling her in person.”

Indecisive, Yui plopped down into her seat, staring past the other three girls in the room as she thought. “Band… future… Ne, can we still be a band after high school?” Yui asked her bandmates.

“Of course!” Tsumugi answered immediately, before calming herself, recalling Ritsu’s advice. “Yes. Nothing would make me happier.”

Both girls and Nodoka turned to Ritsu. The drummer looked away. “That’s… yes. I do.” She answered unconvincingly, before realizing how she sounded. “Yes. It’s complicated, but yes,” she repeated with more resolve.

Though Tsumugi remained concerned, Yui perked up immediately. “I understand, I think. I’ll go talk to everyone then, even Azu-nyan. I owe her an apology for this morning. Oh, and you too, Nodoka-chan! I’m sorry! What was the emergency?”

Unable to suppress a smile, Nodoka stood up, offering Yui her bag, which the girl snatched up greedily in spite of her current apology. “The emergency has been resolved, Yui. Let me know how things go for you all. I’ll be rooting for you.” Standing up herself, Nodoka started for the door with a polite bow.

“Thanks for putting up with me earlier by the way,” Ritsu thanked Nodoka as she exited the room. “I appreciate it.”

Nodoka’s response was to withdraw a paper and wave it warningly. “Don’t mention it. Just make sure to turn your form in on time this time.” The president made her exit, leaving the three seniors alone together.

Before Tsumugi or Yui could ask what Nodoka and Ritsu were referring to, Ritsu was already marching towards the door, her normal boisterous energy returning. “Alright, you two! We’ve got practice today, so no dawdling!”

“Yes captain!” Yui acquiesced immediately, following Ritsu and Nodoka without complaint or questioning how practice fit into their meeting and presumably planned teatime.

Tsumugi paused for a moment by the door, glancing back at the empty room. _Hmm. It’s such a back and forth pendulum when it comes to our condition. Is it alright to stay together simply because we’ve enjoyed the past more than the present? No, I shouldn’t think like that. I’ll figure out where they’re at and help them change if necessary. It’s not about relationships anymore, it’s about my family. Fighting is okay, just as Ricchan said. It’s necessary for change. _That resolve in hand, Tsumugi found herself able to trail the playful duo with a clear conscious.

Ritsu and Yui began to banter in their normal indecipherable fashion on the way to the clubroom, though Tsumugi could tell that Ritsu was doing her best to keep Yui’s mind off of the impending conversation. _So considerate… and I betrayed her. No, I didn’t. I had to. Ricchan needs to face this too. _Tsumugi continued to follow complacently until the three noticed music coming from the clubroom. Intrigued, Ritsu and Yui fell silent, tracking the dying sound up the stairs long after it fell silent.

Even without any sort of music coming from the clubroom, Tsumugi and her companions opted to peer in through the clubroom door rather than barge into whatever was going on inside. Snooping cautiously, Yui threw away the group’s odds at successfully remaining incognito by gasping loudly. Just inside the door, Azusa was sharing an intimate hug with Mio, Azusa’s guitar sandwiched between them as some sort of strange buffer. The display would normally have left Tsumugi starstruck, and she was indeed stunned out of a reaction for a second or two, but the implications of the moment for her companions drew her gaze to them. Ritsu only appeared to be confused, if not mildly annoyed, but Yui appeared downright heartbroken. Before either girl could think to stop her, Yui shoved the door open, sending Ritsu and Tsumugi tumbling to the ground as Yui called out in a mournful tone to the startled pair in front of her. “Mio-chan is cheating on Ricchan!”

* * *

**November 18th, Exactly 3 Minutes After the Final Bell**

The clubroom door gave way solemnly. Azusa wasn’t entirely sure if she was doing the right thing by showing up to the clubroom after school, particularly after this morning, but the urge to do something overwrote Ui’s lessons in self-preservation. Expecting to have arrived first, Azusa was startled to see Mio already present, setting her bass down by the whiteboard. This prompted Azusa to scan the room for her other senpais, but none of them, especially the one she was most curious about, appeared to be present. When she detected movement, Mio looked up sharply, only for her annoyed expression to melt into a smiling mask. “Azusa-chan. You’re here early,” the bassist greeted, rising from her crouched position. “It’s good to see you. Are you feeling alright?”

Nodding quickly as she shut the door behind her, Azusa waved a hand in front of her face nonchalantly. “I’m just fine, Mio-senpai. Please don’t concern yourself over me. Where are the others? Are they not coming?”

Mio bit back a sigh, leaning on the nearest arm of the couch. “They’ll be here soon. I asked about you because you turned your phone off after Yui-chan tried to confess to you, so I’ve heard.” There was a pause as Mio allowed Azusa to set her bag down and return her full attention to the stern bassist. “I can assume how it went, but you shouldn’t cut yourself off from us. Things are weird right now. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t do anything if I can’t talk to you all, understand?” The message rang an eerily familiar tone to the one Ritsu had given her earlier in the day.

The young guitarist felt foolish. In her haste to listen to Ui and put as much distance between herself and Yui as possible, she was hurting everyone else, possibly Yui as well. _Why can’t there just be a right answer? Getting closer means March will hurt worse, while getting farther away means things hurt worse now. Are we destined to fail just because of our circumstances? That’s not fair. This isn’t what I want. I should just listen to Mio-senpai. _“I understand,” Azusa squeaked out, staring at her shoes. “Ritsu-senpai mentioned something about a meeting?” she prompted, hoping to move things along.

“We’ll see,” Mio responded vaguely, glancing at her bass. “If they manage to catch Yui-chan, there’s a chance we’ll be able to talk things out, but it’s not like I can tell what’s going on in anyone’s heads. They say they want one thing, but they act like they want something else, like they don’t understand how their actions affect anything else around them. You understand, right Azusa-chan?”

Azusa didn’t understand, nor did she know how to respond. Of all of her senpais, Azusa looked up to Mio the most. She was usually the most composed, paid the most attention to the wellbeing of the band beyond eating cakes and tea, and was a skilled bass player in her own right. Mio’s support was an oasis in the desert of Ritsu, Yui, and sometimes Tsumugi’s inane games. _But I don’t understand. I don’t know where any of you are coming from either. I don’t know what Mugi-senpai and Ritsu-senpai are trying to accomplish. I don’t know why Yui-senpai suddenly decided to confess. I don’t know why you’re able to remain so calm, Mio-senpai, why you can handle knowing about Ritsu-senpai so easily. I don’t understand. How do I understand? _Azusa’s eyes followed Mio’s to her bass. “I can’t not listen when I play…” Azusa whispered to herself.

“Come again?” Mio asked, leaning in a bit to catch Azusa’s whispered line.

“Mio-senpai, let’s practice while we wait for the others,” Azusa proposed, withdrawing her guitar from its case. “It’s a waste to bring our instruments here every day and not use them, and we haven’t practiced since Monday.” _Maybe if I play with her, I can understand how she feels, the way I did with Yui-senpai. Then I’ll know what to do next._

Mio tilted her head. Her eyes told Azusa she agreed with that sentiment, but the way her eyes searched her kouhai implied that she wanted to know why Azusa had chosen now to bring that particular problem up. “Well, I don’t mind,” Mio eventually agreed. “It could be a while before they find Yui-chan, after all.”

It was tempting to ask what Mio meant by find Yui, but after this morning, Azusa already had a pretty good idea of why Yui needed to be hunted down. _I’m not necessarily looking forward to this either. But Nodoka-san was at least right in saying that I can’t make progress if I don’t talk to her. Hopefully practicing will calm me down a little, if nothing else. _This was the mentality Azusa carried through her brief warmups and tuning. “Fuwa Fuwa Time?” Mio suggested, strumming her bass idly.

Wordlessly, Azusa nodded. Not having to think about what she was doing with a familiar song sounded fantastic right now. With a deep breath, Azusa silently counted her senpai in and began to play.

_Something is very wrong here._

Azusa hadn’t moved at all from where she started. Her fingers were moving physically, but it was like both of her arms were asleep. For all she knew, the opening riff was coming out of the school’s loudspeaker system with how little feedback her actions gave her. Pushing this idea forward a little, Azusa attempted to stop playing, and the sound stopped, grounding her in reality. Mio raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, her time to come in on the song having not arrived. Apologizing for her sudden cessation, Azusa began again, to the same effect. _This is strange. It’s like I’m floating in the air and I just looked down. Maybe I just need Mio-senpai to come in._

Continuing her experiment, Azusa persisted until the bass kicked in. As an answer to her hypothesis, Azusa was blown backwards by the force of Mio’s entry. If Azusa’s entrance was akin to opening a door, Mio’s was akin to storming in with a battering ram, a true feat considering the limitations of her instrument. The windows of the room shuddered, the clear sky outside turning unnaturally grey as Azusa shook herself, attempting to regain her bearings. In doing so, she realized that she was no longer holding her guitar. She could still hear herself playing from somewhere nearby, but Azusa herself was alone with Mio, who still had her bass firmly in hand. The development encouraged Azusa. _It’s happening again. We started on the same song, so we started here. Where’s here? No, don’t think about that. Focus on your music or you’ll lose control. _Though her guitar wasn’t there, Azusa found that she could still feel herself as she actually was, playing the introduction with the control she was familiar with.

As Mio played on without acknowledging Azusa, the guitarist began to wonder if she was the only one who was paying attention to her partner. Aside from sounding a bit more muted than usual following her bombastic entrance, Azusa picked up nothing from Mio’s performance. _Is this what I looked like to Yui-senpai before I matched her sound? No, stop thinking about it! All that matters is that you don’t stop playing. You can win this if you keep playing. She has to open up, and then you can be helpful. _The optimistic projection wasn’t justified by any progress, Mio remaining fully obsessed with her bass. _Maybe I’m just creating what I want to see, who Azusa Nakano wants to be. Would that work? _

Just as Azusa was going to attempt approaching Mio, the black-haired bassist looked up sharply. “Can you hear me?” she asked harshly.

_What? _Azusa tried to reply, only to gasp silently when she found herself unable to speak.

“I said, can you hear me?” Mio repeated, taking a step towards her partner.

Azusa found herself stumbling backwards, pushed away by Mio’s presence. Mio had started singing, of that much she was certain. The kouhai hadn’t expected Mio to start singing, having nearly forgotten who composed the lyrics to their chosen song in the first place, though she probably should have. Mio was the grounded Yin to Yui’s Yang when it came to vocal performances, after all. As if unaware that she was doing anything at all, Mio leaned her upper body out the window dangerously as it opened itself for her, taking in the prosaic scenery as the song reached its first chorus. Azusa ran through her options silently as the song went on around her. Seeing Mio move was positive, but her aura was distinctly repulsive in nature, the queen determined to ensure that she alone could sit on her throne. Azusa took a half step forward, only to rescind her action immediately, uncertain of herself. Mio smirked at Azusa’s hesitation. “Come on, get into it,” she whispered, somehow loud and clear as her song raged like a storm throughout the room.

The challenged opened Azusa’s eyes. _That’s right. I have a part in this too. I can believe in my guitar playing ability. Even against Mio-senpai, I can win. I don’t want to move._

Whatever Mio saw in Azusa’s expression, it was apparently interesting enough to convince her to abandon her precarious position against the window. Were it not for Mio’s absurdly confident smile, Azusa might have considered herself at peace with her current moment. “It’s scary, isn’t it?” Mio asked, wandering past her kouhai and towards the tea cabinet, the floor vibrating with each step she took. “When I don’t know how I feel, I tend to sound more confident. Yui once told me we can’t hide how we feel when we play. Ne, is that true, Azusa?”

_Yes._

The second attempt Azusa made at responding fell as flat as the first. Only her guitar playing continued to emanate off of her spirit, the only validation in this world of her existence. Whatever ability to speak in the clubroom existed had been completely subjugated by Mio’s vocals. All Azusa could do was listen, just as the word on the whiteboard written weeks ago suggested. If the bassist was aware of this, she didn’t let on, and continued as if Azusa had simply failed to respond. “I’m not so sure. The truth is that I’m terrified when I perform, all the time, really. Scaredy-cat Mio, right? But nobody else cares. When I’m with you all, I can play to my fullest, because you don’t mind that I’m scared. It’s a wonderful feeling.”

Said wonderful feeling wasn’t being expressed by Mio’s playing at the moment. The subtle aggression behind her movements as she waltzed between the bassline and the vocals only grew more pronounced as the song wore on. She was playing two roles at once on a stage she had created for herself, Azusa filling in a background role, stuck observing without an instrument in hand. Without any way to take over Mio’s parts the way she had with Yui, Azusa could only play by herself helplessly, like a cheering fan that had bought tickets to Mio’s show. _But this isn’t right. Our band wouldn’t sound the way it does if we couldn’t connect with each other. What makes now different? Aren’t we all scared? _Azusa shook off the pointless thought as she made to pursue her senpai, passing the couch as the second verse began.

“And yet, we’re going our separate ways in a few months, Azusa. I had a plan to keep the seniors together, but Ritsu has as good as rejected it. Perhaps I’m reading too much into things. You all just want me to clean up after your messes, don’t you? Solve this problem, Mio. Fix it, Mio. Sing for us, Mio. Don’t you all understand why I can’t accept this? I’m powerless. I can’t do any more than you can about March. Ritsu can’t run forever. Yui can’t pretend she’s okay forever. Mugi can’t hide things from us forever. And you, Azusa. You can’t remain silent forever, can you?”

Reaching the end of the table as Mio paused, Azusa’s mind stuttered. The storm that was Mio’s aura swirled viciously around her, the bassist’s hair waving behind her coolly. _Silent. I’ve been silent for days. Maybe longer. Mio-senpai has been alone as the only mature person in the band for days. But that’s for the best, isn’t it? As long as I do what everyone wants, nothing can go wrong. But the opposite is true too. When I went against what Yui-senpai wanted, things improved. When am I supposed to listen to myself and when should I listen to others? _Taking note of Azusa’s hesitation, Mio delivered the final blow, pointing the head of her bass towards her kouhai.

“You’re quiet because you’re afraid to tell Yui and the rest of us the truth.”

The sound in the room softened, along with the color surrounding Azusa. Something beyond indignation bubbled up within her, coursing through her entire body and giving her strength of resolve like she’d never felt before. She hadn’t attempted to sing in a long time, but that hardly mattered in the moment. “I think you’re special, Mio-senpai! I think this band is special!” Azusa’s eyes snapped open, both at her sudden decision to sing and the words she had chosen.

With two voices harmonizing surprisingly well as Fuwa Fuwa Time continued, Mio’s front faded away as the bassist became confused, taken aback by Azusa’s singing voice. The clubroom’s form wavered, unable to immediately adjust to the new harmony meant to hold it together. Outside, the sky flickered indecisively between night and day like a girl selecting which dress to wear for a date. “What do you mean?” Mio asked, continuing on in spite of the interruption.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you all,” Azusa confessed. “But this band is special to me. I won’t run from that anymore. I’ve been running, ever since I saw you all together at that meeting weeks ago. I still don’t know if this is where I belong, but I want to try to make it clear how I really feel to everyone. The Light Music Club should have five members.”

“Then let me ask again,” Mio responded, regaining some of her more regal posture as she adjusted to the current situation. “What’s the truth between you and Yui?”

_It was a misunderstanding that I let run too long. I don’t feel that way. _The words tried their hardest to be heard, but Azusa fell silent once more, startling herself in the process and almost causing her to lose her rhythm. _Eh? What happened? Why can’t I sing anymore? _

Mio looked away as Azusa began to panic. “Maybe we’re less similar than I thought. Singing has to come from the heart, Azusa.”

The words struck Azusa right where her singing was supposed to be coming from. “But that means you’re wrong, Mio-senpai!” Azusa insisted. “You’re not powerless. Don’t even act like you are! You’re the one I look up to the most!”

It was obvious that Azusa’s claim had an impact on Mio. For several lines, Azusa found herself singing alone, the bassist retreating within herself to consider what Azusa had said. As Azusa prepared to approach Mio once more, the bassist chuckled lightly to herself, a rare sight that might have forestalled Azusa long enough to fall out of the song had she not been working on autopilot. When Mio’s voice returned, her lyrical tone took on something akin to the airy quality that Azusa had grown used to feeling from the band’s first song, her own voice harmonizing well with Mio’s pitch shift. Without either girl noticing, the sky chose a pale blue dress. “Yui told me something similar once. Maybe the baka will say it next. It’s partially her fault, after all.” Mio paused for an instant, using the time to lean in closer to Azusa. “Azusa, do you love Yui?”

“Yes,” Azusa answered without question. “I love all of you.” It was true, something Azusa had forced herself to admit already, but it wasn’t much easier to do now.

The song rounded the final corner, both girls gearing up for a finale that neither of them was in a hurry to reach. For herself, Azusa could tell that Mio had relaxed, that she’d allowed herself to become absorbed in her playing, her aura a calm and inviting breeze rather than a violent typhoon. If they could continue playing the chorus together, Azusa wouldn’t have hesitated to take Mio’s hand and walk away, Mio’s eyes conveying the same sentiment. Regrettably, they both knew what had to come next. “Then if you were graduating this year, you’d have given Yui a different response?” Mio asked, the finality in her tone indicating she had nothing more to sing.

Left alone on Mio’s stage, Azusa felt panic creeping up on her ideal world once more. _What kind of dumb hypothetical is that? I shouldn’t even entertain it. It’s not just the age. This is Yui-senpai. She’s a girl. I haven’t ever even liked a guy like that. How am I supposed to know if I like girls, let alone Yui-senpai? This whole time I’ve been trying to get them to see that my opinion doesn’t matter. _“Why does who I like even matter?! All I wanted was to shine in the way I saw you all shining! I just don’t want any of you to go!”

The pitiful cry ended the song. The room around them exploded into a cascade of colliding colors and sounds, leaving bassist and guitarist back where they started in the room, instruments in hand. Mio and Azusa stared at each other as the last notes faded out of existence. _How much of that did I share with you, Mio-senpai? _The look in Mio’s eyes suggested that she at least heard part of what Azusa was trying to convey, and that Mio had truly been trying to communicate with her, but she couldn’t be sure, at least not until Mio started tearing up.

“That was an interesting performance,” Mio praised, rubbing her eyes in embarrassment. “I didn’t know you could sing. Your ability has really matured over the past year or two, Azusa-chan.”

For once, Azusa didn’t want praise from her senpai. All she wanted to know was whether or not Mio had truly heard her, her fists clenching to give herself courage. “I-I don’t want any of you to go!” the guitarist repeated empathetically. “I came here to tell you all that days ago, but I haven’t gotten around to it until now. After what happened with Yui-senpai, I wasn’t sure, but you made me want to tell everyone again, Mio-senpai. See, I finished Yui-senpai’s present for her as proof!” Azusa rushed over to her bag, digging out the photo album Yui had gifted her on her birthday party.

Mio looked on knowingly as Azusa scrambled to find her present. Setting her bass down against the couch, she met Azusa halfway back from retrieving her prize. “Thank you, Azusa-chan,” Mio thanked sincerely.

Still partially absorbed in showing off her proof, Azusa started. “Huh? For what? I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who pushed me to sing.”

Shaking her head, Mio placed a hand on Azusa’s shoulder. “I’m still scared, Azusa-chan. I can’t tell any of them that, partially because I’m mad at them, but also because they’re counting on me, even while they reject my ideas. Well, what I’m trying to say is that I’m really glad you’re here, Azusa-chan. You belong with us.”

For all her desire to validate Mio’s gracious praise on Azusa’s growth, the words instantly broke down the younger girl’s defenses. She began to tear up, diving into her senpai for an uncharacteristic hug, her guitar and the picture book still between them. Her guitar made an utterly unique sound as it was pressed into Mio by her kouhai, but the bassist didn’t complain. “I missed you all,” Azusa mumbled amidst fighting back sobs. “I don’t deserve you all, but I don’t want to lose you. When I saw you all back on the 5th, I thought you had all left me behind already.” Azusa could practically hear Ui’s voice among others chiding her, but she no longer cared.

Mio smiled, embracing her kouhai while rubbing her head tenderly. The older girl whispered something to Azusa, but she was no longer of the mind to listen. The two held the embrace for a moment. It didn’t have the novelty Yui’s random hug bursts carried, but Azusa was no less fulfilled by Mio’s kind hold. “It’s as you said. The Light Music Club has 5 members,” Mio reminded her kouhai, loosening her grip enough to ensure Azusa heard her this time.

_Oh, that’s right. HTT has 5 members. I’m still a fool. I love my senpais because of who they are now, because they’re the same people from the wonderful time we’ve spent together. That’s why I can’t not be their kouhai. It’s why Yui-senpai always has to be Yui-senpai. No matter what it takes, I will keep my senpais together. _Feeling reassured for the first time since Yui’s confession, Azusa’s smile lasted until Mio spoke again, unconcerned by her kouhai’s silence. “Yui-chan missed you the most yesterday, you know. We’re all handling this differently, and we all should be leaning on each other more, because if we don’t, we’ll hurt each other. That’s what I absolutely cannot allow. To get to the future, we have to deal with our present properly.” Mio’s grip became just barely noticeably tighter. “Azusa-chan, I don’t know how to feel the way you do. I envy you not knowing how to feel. It means you and she have a chance to find out together.”

There was no way Azusa could respond to that. She buried herself deeper into Mio’s chest instead, her heartbeat becoming the only sound she could hear. The bassist had to be wrong somehow, and Azusa wanted to tell her as such, but she hadn’t the voice to continue singing in the moment. _It can’t be that simple. I can’t win without playing, without giving up anything. That path only has one ending. So why am I still beating myself up like I made the wrong choice? I missed them. This was the only way to get this point, right? Would I do something differently given another chance? Is it not enough just to be around them now?_

As the thought crossed her mind, the clubroom door exploded open, sending three people tumbling inside. “Mio-chan is cheating on Ricchan!” 

For an instant, it appeared as if Yui’s brazen interruption had no effect, then everything happened at once. Tsumugi and Ritsu toppled into the room on top of themselves, Yui’s reckless opening of the door causing them to lose their balance. Yui was pointing accusingly at the pair of black-haired girls, her bag abandoned by the door and cushioning the fall of her friends. Ton was completely unaffected. Simultaneously mortified, Azusa and Mio stepped away from each other quickly, both blushing furiously and unintentionally validating Yui’s claim. The action caused the picture book to fall between them, Azusa’s guitar spared the same fate by its strap. Mio began to furiously explain why Yui was wrong and stupid in the same breath, but Azusa found herself transfixed by the presence of the girl who’d she spent so much time avoiding for the past 48 hours. _Yui… you actually came. _So many thoughts blew by her that most of them ended up being unintelligible, those that remained no more helpful than the ones that disappeared. _What does that mean? Is this what I want? What does Azusa Nakano want? Who is Azusa Nakano?_

Azusa found herself walking past the irate Mio and ignoring the disgruntled comments from Ritsu and Tsumugi as they disentangled themselves. All she could maintain her focus on was her fellow guitarist. When Yui noticed Azusa approaching, she stopped apologizing profusely to Mio and gave all of her attention to her kouhai. “Senpai,” Azusa prompted, addressing her senior casually when they were right next to each other.

“Azu-nyan?” Yui responded innocently, keeping a bit of distance from her kouhai. “You should have told me you like Mio-chan.”

“It’s not like that, moron,” Azusa retorted, her voice quiet. “You know it isn’t, don’t you?”

A befuddled smile appeared on Yui’s face. “I only know what Azu-nyan told me. Is this what you want, Azu-nyan?”

Nothing happened in the clubroom for a moment. The other club members were watching Yui and Azusa tacitly, waiting for indicators of what they should do next, but Azusa had stopped the interaction dead. Yui’s expression became uncomfortably serious as Azusa let the silence continue. “Azusa-chan, I’m sorry for this morning. I know you wanted to be alone, but I shouldn’t have run away and- Ow!” Yui cried out as Azusa slapped her hard across the cheek.

Ritsu winced as Yui brought a hand to her bright red cheek, whimpering a little when she touched the point of impact. “Owie… Azu-nyan, why?” Yui asked, strangely appearing to be more curious than hurt.

“Because I don’t want to hear you apologize for something that’s my fault,” Azusa declared, trembling a little as she fought to hold on to her resolve. “I’m the one who hasn’t been listening to you, or myself. I’ve been conflating what everyone else wants for what I want since the festival, and I’m sick of it. Let me be perfectly clear: I want to be in a band with you all. I don’t care how successful we are, and I don’t care how lazy we are. No matter what it takes, I don’t want you all to go. That’s all I wanted to say.” The kouhai stopped to breathe, air coming in easier as a weight was lifted off of her chest.

The four seniors exchanged looks. Something passed between them, a memory they shared that she didn’t. That thought alone would have been enough for Azusa to begin tearing up all over again had Mio not chosen to speak up in that moment. “We don’t want to go either, Azusa-chan,” Mio informed her kouhai. “If we haven’t made that clear to you, we apologize. No matter how hard it is, I’m going to find a solution that lets us have a future together.”

“We have to change to survive,” Tsumugi seconded. “But I don’t want to change without any of you here.”

“I’ll make sure those two don’t do anything too stupid until then,” Ritsu offered, feigning disinterest. “Our legacy as the Light Music Club can’t end before we perform at Budokon anyways.”

Seeing and hearing the senpais she knew in a similar yet different light, Azusa focused on Yui, who also appeared to be moved by her friends. The look in Yui’s eyes was strikingly familiar, even if it had been several days since Azusa had seen it. _Distant… What are you thinking about, Yui-senpai? _When she looked back to her kouhai, Yui’s only had childish mirth in her expression. “As long as everyone else is okay with it, I want to play together forever too!”

With those words, Azusa could feel the tension in the room deflate. The club members properly entered the room, all smiling fondly at Yui or each other. They had appeared to change moods at the drop of a hat once more, but Azusa could feel her own mood shift with her band this time. _I’ve been looking at the future I want wrong. I want to be with them and be successful, in that order of priority. They never saw me as being out of the picture. If fate was willing to give me these senpais, it has to be up to me to help keep them together. I have to listen to what my heart wants. _In admitting that to herself, Azusa found her gaze involuntarily being drawn towards Yui as she chatted animatedly with Mio about something. _What I want… If they believe I’m good enough, then I will be. _“Ne, Nakano, did you turn your phone on? I tried to text you to tell you what was happening, but you never responded,” Ritsu questioned, looking around at the results of Mio and Azusa’s practice session.

“Ah, right,” Azusa responded, retrieving her phone and switching it on without thinking about it at all.

Instantly, the device lit up with a pile of unread messages. Before Azusa could even begin to unpack the messages she’d accrued, the ringer went off. Checking the caller id, Azusa considered not answering it, but the ramifications of such a rebellion weren’t worth the satisfying feeling she’d get from the action. Covering her device with a hand to shut out her casually snooping senpais, Azusa answered her phone. “Mother, I-“

“Azusa Nakano, I was so worried about you! What are you thinking, turning your phone off at such an important time? Were you even listening to me this morning? Where are you?” Rin’s voice blared loud enough that the entire room would have heard it even if they weren’t listening intently.

“Mother, I’m at the club!” Azusa hissed, now covering the phone with her hands to block the noise out ineffectually. “We’re in the middle of, um, practice. Is this an emergency?”

“When have I ever called you when it wasn’t an emergency?” Mrs. Nakano sarcastically retorted. “I was worried about you. We have a dinner with your friends tomorrow and you’re hardly even excited about it. We’re just working towards your future, no big deal or anything.”

It was suddenly very difficult for Azusa to stand. With effort, she made her way to the couch, not so much sitting as collapsing onto the seat as she struggled to control herself and process what was being told to her. “You’re saying you invited my entire band over for dinner without asking me?” she uttered in disbelief. “How? When? What makes you think-“

“You said it was a great idea when I brought it up earlier this week,” Rin pointed out. “That’s why I assumed you’d be fine with it. Are you going to tell everyone they can’t come now that the day is tomorrow? I was going to make your favorite food, too. Oh, all that work will go to waste. That’s not okay, is it?”

Azusa cast a glance towards her band. Ritsu and Mio immediately looked away and attempted the worst whistling duet Azusa had ever heard while Tsumugi and Yui only nodded encouragingly, Yui going so far as to give her kouhai a thumbs up. The younger guitarist hung her head in defeat. _Damn it. I can’t say no at this point. Mother will know something is fishy. I have to pretend everything is normal. _“I’m looking forward to it,” Azusa managed to get out in an even tone.

“Wonderful! I knew you would be!” Rin cooed. “Hurry home so you can help with the preparations. Tell your band that your father and I look forward to meeting them!” With that, the phone call ended.

Azusa stared at the receiver, still feeling a bit dizzy. _That’s what father decides is important to take off work for? Not me, but my friends? I don’t get it. What could possibly possess them to do that? Mugi-senpai? No, that doesn’t make sense, she can’t be bought. Mother and father don’t know that though. _“Was that Mrs. Azu-nyan?” Yui questioned, bouncing up and down with her hands on the nearby arm of the couch. “I was really surprised when she told us that you invited everyone over, but it makes a bit more sense now. Azu-nyan was feeling lonely, right?”

“What? No!” Azusa protested fiercely. “I had nothing to do with this. Mother set it all up behind my back.”

“Why?” Tsumugi asked from the other side of Azusa. “Planning dinner parties is busy work. I wouldn’t want to plan one by myself.”

Frowning, Azusa stood up. She took a few steps forward, running through the possibilities in her head. No matter what reason her parents had, however, it didn’t change the conclusion she came to. “All of you, I need your help,” Azusa requested, bowing. “I don’t know why mother did it, but if you’re all going to meet my parents tomorrow, we have to at least appear to be a competent club.”

“We are a club!” Yui protested, missing the point.

The younger guitarist sighed and indicated Yui. “My parents are strict. If they find out we spend all our time messing around instead of practicing, they might make me quit. Please, I need you all to pretend to be a serious club tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I swear!”

Ritsu responded before a silence could even begin to set in and let the seniors consider the offer. “If there’s free food involved, I’ll call it even,” the drummer decided, grinning stupidly. “I’ll make sure Mio behaves.”

As Mio smacked Ritsu and sent her to the ground over her comment, Tsumugi nodded. “I’ll behave too, Azusa-chan,” the keyboardist promised, Yui nodding fervently in agreement.

Smiling politely at Tsumugi, Azusa cast a doubtful look to her least reliable senpai. _You’re not the one I’m worried about, Mugi-senpai. I’ll have to be on my A-game tomorrow. I can’t lose, not now that I understand what I’m playing for. _“Hey, what’s this?” Ritsu asked from the floor, picking up Azusa’s photo album. “This is cool. Is it yours, Mio?”

Blushing, Azusa darted forward. “H-hey! Give that back!” she ordered, diving after her present.

Ritsu smirked devilishly, holding the album to her chest and rolling over so Azusa couldn’t get at it. “Now now, that’s not the respectful way to ask, is it?”

“Give it back, thief!” Azusa insisted, continuing to struggle to pry the album out of Ritsu’s grip. “Yui-senpai, help me!”

Yui blinked, as if someone had just poured cold water on her. “You want my help?” She mused idly. “With what?”

“What does it look like? Do I look like I’m doing this for fun?!” Azusa retorted angrily, straining against her stronger senpai.

Tilting her head, Yui’s expression didn’t change. “Sort of?” she responded sheepishly.

“Don’t listen to her private!” Ritsu insisted, leaning heavily into Yui’s indecision.

Yui fretted, unable to decide which side to join. Tsumugi stood off to the side, mumbling about how if she had her camera, she could have added a picture of Mio and Azusa to the album, cementing her current status as useless. Mio took the opportunity to end the argument herself, pushing Ritsu onto her back with her heel and snatching the album from Ritsu’s unprepared arms. “That’s enough. We have enough problems without you starting another fight,” the bassist chided, returning the album to Azusa. “Right?”

Azusa accepted Mio’s help gratefully, nodding. “Yes. Listen, all of you. My parents are ruthless. They’ll do anything to get ahead. I’m assuming they set this whole thing up to try and take advantage of Mugi-senpai’s wealth or something like that. They wouldn’t suddenly just decide to start caring about HTT now after two years.” Azusa’s arms tightened their grip on the book. “It’s because of what’s in this album that I can’t let them take the club away from me.”

Standing up and brushing herself off, Ritsu gave Azusa a quick pat on the head. “Alright. Let’s have some tea and talk about what to do, then. I’m parched, Mugi.” The mood of the club instantly shifted as soon as Ritsu brought up the subject of tea.

“Tea!” Yui exclaimed jovially, rushing towards the table. “I want tea, Mugi-chan!”

“Coming right up!” Tsumugi agreed, heading for the tea cabinet.

“Wait!” Azusa insisted, holding out a hand as if to pull her senpais away from the table. “If we have tea now, we’ll never get anything done! We need to make a plan for tomorrow and-“ The clearing of a throat cut Azusa off.

Mio smiled fondly at Azusa. “It’s fine, Azusa-chan. We’ll pull through eventually. We always do. Mugi-chan, let me help you. You should be resting.” Without another word to her kouhai, Mio joined Tsumugi at the table.

It was tempting for Azusa to complain that they never accomplished anything in the club after teatime, but she couldn’t berate the club’s main pastime less than a minute after she’d insisted that she wanted to be a part of the club. Joining the others at the table reluctantly, Azusa found herself unwillingly relaxing as Yui got her to show everyone the photo album she and Tsumugi had put together. The group drank tea and discussed each photo in detail, making sure to use up enough time that there was none left to get something meaningful done. Before Azusa knew it, she was on her way home, only the enthusiastic promises of her bandmates left to convince her that she wasn’t about to lose everything that mattered to her tomorrow. _It’s so frustrating. Being who we are makes sustaining who we are almost impossible. But that’s why I have to be honest with myself. Azusa Nakano is strong enough to get what she wants. I’ll make a plan and have them follow it tomorrow. Mother and father aren’t going to stop me from playing ever again. _Now walking home alone with Yui through the unforgiving cold, Azusa used the mantra in her head to warm herself.

“I’m cold, Azu-nyan,” Yui bemoaned, just the latest in a long series of complaints about the weather. “I forgot my mittens again.”

Without saying anything, without thinking about it, Azusa took Yui’s hand right from her side. Yui blushed at the bold move, her breath coming just a bit heavier as she waited for Azusa to explain herself. “Don’t think about it,” Azusa told herself and Yui at the same time, hoping her own blush was unnoticeable behind her scarf. “I’m cold too.”

Smiling gratefully, Yui refocused on the road ahead of them, swinging her new connection back and forth between herself and Azusa. The kouhai felt her heart skip a beat with every swing, emotions she’d ignored within herself for her own good now threatening to capsize her logical thinking ability. _It’s just to keep warm. You’ve held her hand before. She’s your senpai. You already decided that you’re going to belong with HTT. You belong with senpai. _The thought almost made Azusa yank her hand away, but she somehow remained calm. _Enough. You’re not thinking straight. This is way too drastic a turn to make without sleeping on it at least. There’s a dinner to deal with tomorrow. Keep yourself together until then. We’ll figure out what to do about this after that. _As she thought, Yui’s jovial mood at the new development became more subdued.

“Ne, Azu-nyan, thanks,” Yui thanked her kouhai.

Azusa raised her head curiously. “For what, senpai?”

Yui smiled, though her eyes didn’t quite meet Azusa’s. “For reminding all of us that we belong together. I think everyone had their doubts until you said something. I like the way you completed the album, by the way. That picture was nice.”

_You had doubts? What about me?! _Azusa wanted to shout that, but her voice was already spent from an afternoon of singing and discussing every detail of the band’s history together. “I had to remind myself of that,” the kouhai admitted. “I still don’t know if it was the right thing to do. I hurt you, Yui-senpai.”

Shaking her head sadly, Yui smiled. “As long as you’re honest, Azu-nyan, you can’t hurt me. You meant what you said, right?”

Azusa didn’t immediately respond. Breathing suddenly became a much more interesting pastime than thinking. “You don’t have to answer now, Azu-nyan,” Yui whispered into the November air. “Take your time. I’ll wait as long as you need me to. Just promise me that you’ll keep playing with us until then, okay?”

Squeezing Yui’s hand as certainty overcame the younger guitarist, Azusa nodded, her response automatic. “Of course, Yui.”


	19. Dinner!

**November 19th, 2 Hours After School**

Four pairs of shoes trudged behind one slightly more impatient pair, their trail of imperfect imprints on the ground filled in by the snowfall before they could even hope to be noticed. Typical as it was for her club, Azusa was no less annoyed as she spurred her senpais forward through the light flurry of snowflakes tumbling down everywhere. Had she known how uncouth the weather would be to their plans, Azusa would have kicked her senpais out of the clubroom hours ago. Instead, the Light Music Club was stuck chasing the dying sunlight through freezing conditions with some very unwilling participants. The least motivated traveler made her displeasure known by suddenly halting and crouching down, hugging her legs to her chest. “I give up!” Yui declared. “I can’t handle the cold anymore! Where’s summer?”

Ceasing her half-hearted charge, Azusa turned back to her fellow guitarist with a glare. “Stand up, Yui-senpai. You’re making it worse by not moving, and we’re gonna be late at this rate,” Azusa berated her senpai unsympathetically. “We promised mother and father we’d head for my house right after practice, and now the sun is going down. Mou, if you’d all listened to me when I said we didn’t have time for tea, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

A sullen moan of discomfort that vaguely sounded like Azusa’s nickname was Yui’s only response. For an instant, Azusa considered lightening her firm stance, but only for an instant. As she doubled back on herself to deal with the shivering guitarist, Tsumugi stepped in, having paused to gather around Yui with the other seniors until she rose again. “Yui-chan, there’s going to be warm tea at Azusa-chan’s house. Food, too. Aren’t you hungry?” she slyly mentioned, nudging the girl with her arm.

Gentle goading was apparently all it took for Yui to pop back up like an underused jack-in-the-box. “Right! Let’s go!” she exclaimed, seizing the lead from a disgruntled Azusa.

Before Yui could get too far, Azusa snatched Yui by the shoulder, pulling herself in front of her senpai as Yui tried and failed to continue walking. “You don’t know where you’re going,” she reminded her senpai in exasperation. “Just stay with the others, okay?”

Though that technically wasn’t true, Yui nodded obediently anyways, falling back into the semi-loose line HTT’s seniors had formed without complaint. Smirking over the display, Ritsu jerked a thumb towards her kouhai. “You hear this kid, Mio? Nakano thinks she can drink more tea than anyone else and then tell us it’s our fault that we’re going to be late. Even Sawa-chan commented on it, if I recall. What do you have to say to that, my kouhai?” the drummer challenged playfully.

Flustered, Azusa pulled her scarf more tightly around her face to conceal her blush. She couldn’t say that she was nervous about the dinner, which left only one option. “I missed lunch,” she lied. “And I’m not the one who started a 30-minute conversation on drummers I like, am I?”

“Oh yeah, that happened,” Ritsu noted to herself, apparently having forgotten this fact. “Ah, we’ll call it even then. At least it was fun.”

“It was a lot of fun!” Yui seconded, the weather unable to freeze her enthusiasm. “So it wasn’t a waste of time, right Azu-nyan?”

Azusa hesitated, the answer she was about to give stopped short of becoming real by her brain. “No,” she responded stubbornly. “Not when there’s an appointment we have to meet that’s being ignored. You all need to understand how important this is to the band.”

“Azusa-chan is right,” Mio supported, her authoritative aura supported by the freezing wisps of air leaving her mouth and the way her hair billowed out gently behind her in the wind to match the slanted snowfall. “If this is important to her, we should take it seriously. Do you want to make her parents think we’re incompetent?” The last line was followed up by a pointed glare at Ritsu.

Ritsu’s smirk didn’t falter as she elbowed Mio playfully. “Could it be you despise our teatime as well, Mio? Or do you just hate drummers? If you like, we could swap scary stories instead. I know one about a massive- ack!” the impish drummer gasped as Mio ruined her image by giving Ritsu’s scarf a fierce yank, strangling the drummer for an instant and sending her spinning away like an overdressed ballerina.

As Ritsu focused on breathing normally and preparing to retaliate, Azusa cleared her throat loudly. All four girls turned their attention to the leading walker once more. Thanking herself for preparing an extensive tree chart of methods to prevent the group’s focus from being on anything but the current problem, Azusa folded her arms as she marched forward without facing her senpais. “Listen to me. None of us dislike teatime. That’s why, in order to protect it, I need all of you to behave as a real, functioning club would at the dinner party. Got it?”

“Is the situation that dire, Azusa-chan?” Tsumugi questioned as she trailed behind the pack, her eyes darting over to Yui every time the girl so much as swayed a little on her feet from the chilling wind. “I don’t want anyone to actually get sick because we pushed ourselves too far.”

“Yes,” Azusa answered without hesitation. “My parents only care about success and results. They’d relish the opportunity to make me quit if they can’t see any merit to the club.” As she spoke the words, a twinge of doubt plucked at Azusa’s heartstrings, memories of the previous morning casting a suspicious light on her claim.

Shaking off the unnecessary ideas in her head, Azusa refocused on Tsumugi nodding thoughtfully. “I see. Then I shall have to go all out and-“

“Nope!” Ritsu vetoed, clapping Tsumugi on the back a bit too aggressively. “Don’t overthink this. That goes for you too, Nakano. We of the Light Music Club have no need to make such foolish mistakes. Our only motto is to have fun! And go to Budokon, time permitting.”

“Yeah, Budokon!” Yui cheered on helpfully, having no idea what she was cheering for and returning to holding her arms around herself protectively in almost the same second she raised them in support.

“I’m not overthinking this!” Azusa pouted, ceasing her walk to face her senpais properly. “If you can’t at least pretend to be a responsible club president, then just go home!”

Ritsu started, caught off guard by Azusa’s hostility. The drummer appeared to be unsure of what to do, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she attempted to laugh off Azusa’s ultimatum. Instantly, Azusa felt bad for her outburst. Ritsu was annoying at times, and certainly not a competent club president, but that didn’t justify Azusa’s reaction. _Calm down. Make your stance clear. That’s the plan for getting your point across, right? They’re not unreasonable. You just need to make them understand. _Before Azusa could use her pep talk to motivate her to speak up again, snickering from Ritsu’s left drew everyone’s attention.

Fighting a losing battle with bursting out laughing, Mio struggled to contain herself as she realized that all eyes were on her. Ritsu in particular cocked an aggressive eyebrow at her childhood friend, silently demanding an explanation. “S-sorry,” the bassist managed to get out. “Just the idea of Ritsu being a responsible president now after all this time…” Mio’s explanation fell apart into poorly controlled giggles.

Visibly offended, Ritsu pounded her chest with one fist assertively. “Oh, so you don’t think I can, huh? You’d rather I rule with an iron fist like a tyrant rather than the benign dictator I am? Well I’ll show you, dangerous queen. I’m gonna be the best club president this club has ever seen! You’re gonna shape up for tomorrow too, got it?” As Ritsu continued to boast about how great she was while Mio laughed at her, Azusa watched her chances of success bury themselves under the snow.

“It’s not Mio-senpai or Mugi-senpai I’m worried about,” Azusa reminded the drummer when she happened to catch a moment of reprieve from the pair’s banter. “You and Yui-senpai are the ones who need to behave. Look, if you’re gonna make me come out and say that I care, you better not ruin things for me by acting like yourselves tonight.”

Whirling around to face her kouhai, Ritsu leaned in aggressively. Azusa shrank back a little, her position as a kouhai suddenly terrifyingly real. “Oi now, kid. I can do stuff good when I want. You’ll see tonight, Nakano, that betting on Ritsu is never the wrong move. When you’re falling at my feet in admiration, you’ll see. Then I’ll punish you and Mio for doubting me.”

Azusa’s contemplation on how that would never happen was interrupted by Yui shoving her own face next to Ricchan. “I want to help! How can I help, Azu-nyan?” The space between them became crowded enough to cause Azusa to stumble backwards, catching herself before she could fall over.

Ritsu separated herself from Yui, but the guitarist was undeterred from trying to be her definition of helpful. From the look on her face, Azusa knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of telling Yui to just forget about it. That wasn’t the major issue regarding the girl pleading for attention from Azusa though. _She’s distant again. It’s not as pronounced as yesterday, but she just feels… off. She’s not hiding, but she won’t get close, not since the 16th. Why can I tell that? Maybe I just don’t understand, or I’m going crazy. But I decided to try to understand, didn’t I? No, focus on the immediate crisis, Nakano. _To Yui’s eager expression, Azusa steeled herself and put on an emotionless mask. “Say as little as possible, do not hug me, do not call me Azu-nyan, do not touch me, only speak when spoken to, and if you so much as blink wrong I’ll never forgive you.” Feeling particularly proud of that rehearsed bit of dialogue, Azusa’s excitement dampened quickly when she saw Yui’s reaction.

Having expected Yui to be overwhelmed, or even to possibly resist Azusa’s command, it was strange to see the senior continuing to stare intently at her kouhai. Even Ritsu gave Yui a somewhat incredulous look as Yui stared at her kouhai like she’d never see her again. The drummer apparently realized what was happening before Azusa did, as she shook her head to herself and fell back in line with the others without trying to interact with the older guitarist. Azusa’s discomfort grew exponentially as Yui continued to hold her unblinking gaze on her kouhai. The senior’s eyes watered, snow beginning to pile up on her head as she remained stoic and unblinking. “Ah… Yui-senpai?” Azusa questioned cautiously, unsure of what to do.

There was no response. Just as Azusa reached her limit and opened her mouth to summon backup, Yui blinked, following up the action with a frustrated moan. “I can’t do it, Azu-nyan!” Yui complained, rubbing her eyes as steam rose against the falling snow from her head. “I have to blink! I’ll try to do the other stuff though!” Watching the pitiful display wrought enough mercy from Azusa’s heart that she didn’t bother mentioning that Yui had already broken another of her made up rules. _Yes, I was wrong. Winning and success aren’t the same thing. Their definition of success and what I want to win aren’t the same thing. I chose to want to stay with HTT when I told them how I felt. Whatever comes next, I have to win here, for the sake of Yui and the band, and for me._

“It’ll be fine. We’ll just lock her in a closet or something and say she got lost if she starts acting up,” Ritsu cheekily proposed. “Do you have any rooms in your house nobody uses?”

There were many rooms in Azusa’s house that nobody used, but the kouhai wasn’t about to pursue this point. Yui recovered from her delayed response to Azusa’s onslaught in time to whine at Ritsu. “Ricchan, why would you do that to me? I thought we were best friends! If I’m going in the closet, you have to come with me!” The plea was amusing to Azusa, but the glare of the sun on her back reminded her that this was exactly how she’d wasted the last two hours and ended up pressed for time in the first place.

“Alright you two, cut it out,” Mio ordered, her previous mirth gone as she took control for her kouhai. “We’re actually going to be late if we don’t get moving.” Falling into step with Azusa, Mio made it all of seven steps before a snowball pelted her in the back of the head.

“The dangerous queen must fall for the tyrant to properly rule!” Ritsu exclaimed triumphantly, doing her best to make it sound like her nonsense sentence had actual meaning.

Mio didn’t immediately turn around, allowing the offending snowball to slowly plop to the ground with the rest of its snowflake brethren. Filthy dirt-covered snow mixed with pristine white snow on the ground, both types smashed under Mio’s foot as she slowly trained her gaze on her new target. This gave Ritsu plenty of time to realize she’d made a terrible mistake. “Shit, bad timing. Private, run!” Ritsu commanded, fleeing in the opposite direction of Azusa’s house, Yui hot on her trail despite having nothing to do with Ritsu’s attack.

Azusa’s hope that Mio would remain the adult in this situation was dashed when she realized that Mio had been using the time to form her own snowball. “You won’t get away!” Mio howled, pursuing the band’s less responsible members with snowballs in hand.

As the last bastion of sanity abandoned Azusa, the kouhai could only stare in disbelief as Mio chased Ritsu and Yui around, hurling snowballs with shocking accuracy. “I’m going to have to quit the club,” she thought aloud as three of her senpais had an impromptu snowball fight on the sidewalk.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Tsumugi reassured her kouhai, walking ahead and beckoning to the younger girl to follow her. “They’ll catch up, and we’ll still make it with plenty of time. We can always use practice as an excuse, as well.”

“Not if we’re covered in snow. Besides, that’s only part of the problem,” Azusa pointed out as she matched Tsumugi’s pace. “Not that I’m complaining, but why aren’t you joining them, Mugi-senpai?”

Tsumugi’s constant mysterious smile faltered a little. “I’d like to, but I’m not necessarily sure that there’s any room for me over there at the moment,” she professed, somewhat sadly. “I can’t play with them anymore as I am now, for better or worse.”

Glancing at the hand Tsumugi was gripping tightly to her chest made Azusa presume what Tsumugi was talking about. “Oh, because of your hand. Is it still bothering you, senpai?” Azusa asked politely. “Has Ritsu-senpai apologized to you yet? I’m sorry on her behalf.” The kouhai bowed, making a mental note to add Tsumugi’s injury to the number of things Ritsu had to answer for after she was done making her pretend to be responsible.

Something about Tsumugi’s expression gave Azusa the impression that she’d missed the mark as she raised her head, but she was smiling and patting Azusa fondly with her good hand before the kouhai could confirm anything. Her bandaged hand hung limply at her side as she brushed accumulating snow from her kouhai’s hair and elicited a peaceful sigh from the younger girl that she wished she had even an iota of control over. “We can use that excuse, I suppose,” she agreed noncommittally. “You’re a wonderful kouhai, Azusa-chan. We’re blessed to have you.”

Startled, Azusa questioned her senpai with a look. She was flattered, of course, but why Tsumugi was choosing now of all times to praise her confused the kouhai. Her attempt to refute Tsumugi’s claim was cut short as the heiress refused to give her an in. “My hand will heal soon, within a week or so. I’d like to say the same for our band, if possible.” She gave her brawling friends a wistful look. “Azusa-chan, I’d like to apologize to you.”

The cute expression Tsumugi made as she stared into the distance longingly didn’t offset the dour nature of her chosen discussion topic. “Mugi-senpai, I didn’t ask you to apologize to me. It’s not your fault Yui-senpai did what she did. I mean, maybe you sped some things up, but, ah-“ Azusa trailed off when she realized that Tsumugi was on the verge of crying. “No, don’t cry! It’s all Ritsu-senpai’s fault, not yours! You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” It felt like she was just pouring gasoline on a fire, but Azusa couldn’t stop herself from rushing to the vulnerable girl’s defense.

Noticing her kouhai’s frantic state, Tsumugi dried her eyes rapidly and put on a forced smile. “It’s fine, Azusa-chan. I have as much culpability in our band’s atmosphere as Ricchan and the others do, so I’ve no right to request your pity for how things are at the moment. What I did I still believe was the right thing to do. I wanted both you and Yui-chan and the others to start thinking about your futures, and I achieved that. Visiting you in the mornings had that purpose, but I really did enjoy getting guitar tips from you. I haven’t given up on making things right yet, either. I just… need to change my approach. I wanted a family so badly, and I didn’t even realize that I didn’t understand what a family was. I have to remedy that error. To that end, Ricchan can shove me as many times as she wants. Families are allowed to fight and make up.”

Letting the silent snowflakes do the talking for Azusa sounded pleasant. Tsumugi’s talk of family only reinforced her decision as she allowed a calm to drift around between the two of them. To some extent, she was still upset at Tsumugi and the others for various reasons regarding the fight, but all of it came second to dealing with the dinner. Truthfully, after yesterday, Azusa would have preferred to pretend that they’d simply gotten over their fight that somehow felt ages ago, but she wasn’t about to let such a desire lure her into naivete. The kouhai clenched her hands into fists, crushing delicate snowflakes by the tens to remind herself of her current goal. “If this goes poorly, we won’t have the luxury of thinking about that,” she warned the heiress. “I don’t understand how Ritsu-senpai can’t see that. It’s dragging Mio-senpai and you all down too.”

“It’s not that she can’t,” Tsumugi corrected, catching a snowflake on her fingertip delicately. “I just think Ricchan prefers to keep her eyes closed when she’s running. In situations like these, I’d say she’s rather reliable, wouldn’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Azusa couldn’t help but scoff. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be concerned at all. I know her too well to trust her.”

Tsumugi giggled at Azusa’s response, drawing a bit of indignation from the kouhai. The heiress turned her gaze to the fickle clouds above them, greys playing with a warm palette of colors that the sun selfishly stole away from the sky as it sank below the horizon. “Well, how about this then: trust me, Azusa-chan. My upbringing makes me uniquely apt to handle this sort of situation for everyone. This is my element, and from experience, I’m sure Ricchan and the others will make things work out. Look, I even brought a gift on behalf of the club.” Indicating her bag as proof, Tsumugi smiled reassuringly. “I won’t allow anything to go wrong tonight on my watch, so you can count on me, officer.” The vaguely detective-like pose Tsumugi struck dampened Azusa’s growing confidence.

As Tsumugi continued to make a fool of herself under Azusa’s watchful eye, the kouhai thought a bit harder on what her senpai had meant by her words. _Mugi-senpai might have been working harder than everyone else. She was the one who pushed the hardest for Yui-senpai to talk to me about how she felt. She even visited me almost every morning before the rumors got started. Of course, that was apparently because she was trying to push me closer to Yui-senpai, but she seemed genuinely interested in guitar, too. It doesn’t make sense. She gives the club so much time when she probably has to deal with dinners like this and her other duties as a heiress. And she doesn’t feel like she belongs? That can’t be right. I’m the only out of place one… no, stop it. I can’t continue thinking like this any longer. This is what I want, so I’m going to get it. That’s all there is to it. _

“You know, maybe we don’t need to perfectly understand each other,” Azusa posited aloud, giving her Tsumugi’s full attention. “We’re all different people, but we want to play together. That’s what makes the band sound good, right?” It was the same question Azusa had desperately searched for an answer to when she first joined the band, which wasn’t lost on the heiress.

The idea sat idly with Tsumugi for a moment, only the faint cries of her friends filling the gap between Azusa’s question and Tsumugi’s lack of response. When she spoke again, there was a spark of inspiration in her eyes. “Mm, perhaps, perhaps. In truth, I always thought what makes our band sound the way it does was because we understand exactly what we all need to understand, but I see your point of view too. It’s the fact that what we understand needs to change with our rapidly approaching futures that’s causing our discord. I’m part of the problem, of course, but I’ll make sure to be part of the solution too. I promised Ricchan and the others, after all. Ne, will you make a promise with me, Azusa-chan?”

Azusa noted the conviction in Tsumugi’s voice and had to reign in her desired eager response. “What is it?” she asked, still showing her hand with her poorly disguised enthusiasm.

“Don’t turn your phone off again,” she requested sincerely, furrowing her eyebrows to convey her intensity. “You had me worried for days when I couldn’t contact you. I know you know those morning lessons had an ulterior motive, but I’d still like to learn guitar from you, when you have time. And beyond that, please, trust us a little more. It might not look like it, but everyone is doing their best, especially Yui-chan. You don’t have to agree with them, but please do your best too. In return, I’ll do my best too. I’ll make tea way better than anything you’ve tasted before, I promise!”

The tea part would have probably worked better on any other band member, but Azusa still nodded fervently with shining eyes. “Of course, Mugi-senpai! I’ll do my best!” Realizing she sounded like Yui, the kouhai composed herself, nodding back towards the girls behind her. “That is, I’ll do what I can. Somebody has to make sure you all survive high school. Do you think the others are-“ a thwap interrupted Azusa’s question, along with a mound of slightly dirty snow in her face.

From somewhere in front of Azusa’s blurred vision a panicked gasp rang out. Wiping the offending material off her face and into her hands, Azusa was rewarded with crystal-clear view of Mio gaping in disbelief, still in the motion of throwing. Off to the side, Ritsu and Yui, both out of breath, were gawking with poorly concealed concern. “Azusa-chan, I’m so sorry!” Mio apologized, already starting to well up with tears. “I didn’t mean it, I was aiming for the baka! I’m sorry!” Mio bowed several times, her apology so genuine it almost made Azusa feel bad for being unfortunate enough to get hit.

Sadly, this apology did nothing for the dull ache coming from Azusa’s forehead, her vengeful side too obdurate to allow her hand to be stayed when taking revenge for any reason. She packed the snow resting in her hand into a slightly smaller snowball, approaching her senpai with honorable revenge in mind. Mio tensed up but didn’t retreat as Azusa came at her, holding her position with a surprising amount of bravado. Just as she reached the optimal throwing distance, Azusa whirled on one heel and lobbed the snowball at Yui, striking the girl square in the chest. The snowball had little effect on Yui outside of startling her for a second, the poorly made ball plopping to the ground anticlimactically. “Eh? Why me?” Yui whined like she’d just been chosen to do the dishes after dinner.

“It’s your fault and Ritsu-senpai’s fault that happened.” Azusa berated. “It’s both of your faults we’re going to be late, too. Apologize and let’s get moving.”

After taking both Yui and Ritsu’s probably genuine apologies and smacking Ritsu for commenting that Azusa was Yui’s abusive girlfriend, the group of five was properly on their way to the Nakano household once more. They didn’t make it far before Yui felt confident enough to interrupt Azusa’s attempts to focus her roving thoughts. “Ne, Azu-nyan, are your parents really that bad? When I sat down and talked with my parents, we worked things out pretty well.”

“Aren’t your parents never home?” Ritsu pointed out to Yui before Azusa could respond. “How often do you see them?”

Yui put a finger to her chin, forgetting her objective as she thought. “Ah, once or twice a month, usually. They’re pretty busy. I guess they can be strict, but they think I have a good idea of what I’m doing. I wish I saw them more, but I’m glad they trust me, eheh.”

Disbelieving looks were exchanged among the rest of the band, Azusa most of all. Her interpretation of that response was that Yui’s parents were just as airheaded as their oldest offspring. “That sounds nice,” Tsumugi chipped in, somewhat uncertainly. “My mother and father aren’t home often either, but they didn’t give me a choice regarding my university selection. It’s… stifling.”

Mio and Ritsu exchanged a glance. “Well, our parents are cool,” Ritsu spoke for both of them. “And you? What side are your parents on, Nakano? They’re at least around, right?”

“Controlling,” Azusa answered without hesitation. “It’s a miracle I can still play the guitar. They think all my time with the club is spent practicing.”

The ominous statement killed the mood quickly. Realizing this, Azusa hurried onward in the conversation. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to bring everyone down,” she apologized.

“It’s fine, Azu-nyan,” Yui reassured. “When they meet us, they’ll have no choice but to accept how great the Light Music Club is!”

That declaration did nothing for Azusa, but it seemed to placate the other seniors, who began to walk and talk normally again, leaving Azusa to keep up silently. On the edge of their row next to Yui, Azusa remained tacit as her thoughts finally turned to handling the task in front of her. Trying to determine the fastest way to eat dinner and get everyone to leave became difficult as Azusa found herself unable to keep her eyes off of Yui’s hand, covered by a glove as it swung carelessly at her side. Azusa’s own fingers felt chilled as they recalled yesterday’s incident. Were Azusa to remove her own gloves, she felt certain she’d see blue. It was if her body was physically compelling her to indulge in yesterday’s temptation once more. _Stop it. Don’t call it that. I’m just cold, because November is cold. The time it would take to even entertain this idea isn’t time I have. I should only be thinking about the dinner, not why I did something so… weird. _Telling herself this was like putting a band-aid on a gunshot wound. _I’ve decided to be honest about what I want with them, even if it hurts them or me, so I was. That shouldn’t change anything with Yui. She hasn’t changed. _That abjectly wasn’t true, and as Azusa’s head reminded her of this fact, Azusa gripped her hands to her sides tightly, giving them something to do besides wander aimlessly.

Yui thankfully didn’t appear to notice her kouhai’s misgivings, the guitarist thoroughly engrossed in a conversation about picks and how putting stickers on them improved their effectiveness with Mio. As snow collected once more on Yui’s head, however, Azusa could see the lie she’d told herself clearly. Yui’s eyes shone, but the light was artificial. Instead of her naturally winding walk, she continued on perfectly straight, holding a conversation about complicated musician things with ease despite being Yui. In short, she was too normal to be Yui. Azusa released a frustrated breath of air where she couldn’t be seen. _She’s a child. I’m overthinking things, like always. Children don’t confess though, assuming Yui was serious. Well, they do, but Yui meant it, probably. Wait, no, we’re in high school. None of that’s supposed to matter. Ask Sawako-sensei. But she was definitely serious. She’s too airheaded to lie about something like that. Yui is growing up. I don’t want to be left behind. Is that why I took her hand? To be an adult for our future? _Even as she had the thought, Azusa knew it wasn’t the answer.

As she continued her fruitless spiral of brooding while insisting to herself that she shouldn’t be brooding, images of Azusa’s slothful senpai were dredged up as the genuine article somehow turned her conversation about music into one about desert etiquette. Most were crisply familiar, the band having gone through her photo album just yesterday, but other, fresher memories were mixed in as well. Helping Yui restring her guitar, the party, even their trip to the mall a few days ago intermingled with Azusa’s image of Yui Hirasawa, contradictory evidence arguing with itself as Azusa struggled to pinpoint a point. _I was the one who had to help Yui-senpai with finals. I did that because I saw her actually giving it her all. But she still moves at her own pace, even when she’s trying. Is she giving it her all now? I’m supposed to help her then. A kouhai helps her senpai shine. But Yui doesn’t want to be my senpai. She wants to be something else. I stopped her. Was that right? It’s what mother and father would have me do. A Nakano should have a relationship at this stage in her life, of any kind. Is that right, father, mother? But I decided to listen to what Azusa wants. What do I want from Yui and HTT? _Just glancing at Yui for an answer scrambled Azusa’s thoughts, as if someone had run a magnet over the computer that was her brain. _Nope. This isn’t working. Too many facts, not enough time to sort out a plan. Senpai, you’re ruining everything, you know that? I tried so hard to push you away, and when you took a step back, this happened. I’ve been… inconsiderate. I’m only thinking about how being with the band and Yui benefits me. Only about whether I feel that way or not. Whether I can sleep at night because of the nightmares. It’s inappropriate for a kouhai. _

“Azu-nyan? You’re falling behind,” Yui called out to her lagging friend.

Scattering her thoughts behind her, Azusa started forward, almost running Yui down as she took the lead back too eagerly. “Sorry about that. Let’s keep moving.”

Yui’s concern didn’t fade, the senior matching Azusa’s pace easily. “Ui mentioned you seemed distracted today,” the senior pointed out. “Are you that worried about tonight? We’ll do our best, okay? I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Cursing Ui, silently or otherwise, for tattling felt somewhat hypocritical. If Azusa ever did something that Ui noticed and found interesting, she could more or less expect it to get back to her Yui, no matter what the younger sister said. _Damn it. I need a plan so this doesn’t mess anything up tonight. I decided that I wanted to win, to stay with the band, so I have to act like it. Everything comes second to that. If making a commitment is what it takes, then that’s what Azusa Nakano is going to do. I have to win. _“Yui,” Azusa addressed, using all the self-assurance she had to ensure that Yui was actually paying attention to her.

The sound of crunching snow died as the other seniors noticed what was happening. “Mhm?” Yui acknowledged, tilting her head at Azusa’s word choice. “What’s up, Azu-nyan?”

“Listen, I like you. Let’s go on another date next week,” Azusa told the girl in front of her, rejecting what hesitation threatened her nerve. “There are some things bothering me too, so I want to sort them out with you then, once this dinner is over.”

The diction used was carefully crafted, enticing enough to attract Yui’s attention without outright committing herself to one side or another. Azusa was personally proud of the invitation, but seeing Yui’s eyes fail to immediately light up caused the younger guitarist to doubt herself. Yui only continued to tilt her head in somewhat adorable confusion, snow tumbling to the ground as she ruminated on Azusa’s proposal. Ritsu provided a much more entertaining reaction, tripping over herself and only just barely avoiding a trip to the ground while Mio looked on thoughtfully. Tsumugi gaped, hands clasped together in unabashed mirth, but Yui still didn’t react for several critical seconds. Azusa started to wonder if this was how Yui felt several days ago when the senior’s smile returned with a small nod. “I understand, Azu-nyan. That sounds like fun. You want to discuss the details later so you can focus, right?” she presumed.

Azusa had almost forgotten that Yui had a terrifyingly acute sense for knowing what she was thinking that only seemed to kick in at inconvenient times. Unable to verbally respond immediately, Azusa parroted Yui’s nod dumbly before she caught and shook herself, speaking in a rushed burst. “Yes, correct. Please don’t mention it to mother and father. There’s no reason for them to know. We’re a band.”

Nodding obediently, Yui gaze Azusa a single fleeting pat on the head before walking forward once more. It was only for an instant, but Azusa could tell that Yui’s heart wasn’t in the moment. After bearing witness to Yui’s confession, it was like the senior had erected a wall between herself and the others, a glass wall that one only noticed if they tried to get close to her. Still, in reaching out, Azusa felt like she’d done something right. Whatever happened, Azusa wanted to find a way to shine with the people around her, so this step was necessary, even if she didn’t know what direction she was walking in. Mio and Tsumugi took a cue from Yui, starting off after her despite none of them knowing exactly where they were going. Watching the back of their heads bob along, Azusa was startled when a hand found her shoulder. Ritsu had a far off look in her eyes, but she continued to smile at her kouhai like they were the only people in the world. “You’re gonna be a great club president, kid,” the drummer declared, before taking off at a full sprint after her friends. “Hey! You three think you can just pretend that didn’t happen?!” More ranting from the aggressive drummer was completely ignored by all other parties involved.

Following behind the others before they could call her out again, Azusa found herself feeling spontaneously confident. As long as Yui and the others understood what needed to be done, then everything was going to be fine.

* * *

**November 19th, The Nakano Household**

Whatever faith Azusa had put in herself was left frozen to death in the snow by the time her home loomed over her. With the backdrop of the setting sun, Azusa’s abode was a towering palace that dissuaded any form of entry with its very presence. This didn’t appear to bother her senpais at all, with Ritsu leading a proud march right up to the front door while singing the praises of the Light Music Club’s and more specifically her own bravery. Recognizing the imminent danger associated with letting Ritsu lead, Azusa rushed forward and pressed her finger to the doorbell right as Ritsu was about to knock on the door. Exchanging a look with the impatient drummer was all Azusa had time to do before the door to enemy territory swung open, revealing one enthusiastic Rin Nakano. Azusa’s mother had donned a chic blue dress that clashed aggressively with her homey apron and slippers, leaving Azusa wondering exactly what kind of impression her mother was trying to make on her friends. “Ah, Azusa, welcome home. I presumed you’d take you time. Oh, and this must be your band! Come in, come in! It’s far too cold to talk out here. I’ve laid out slippers for you all.” Motioning towards the slippers on the floor, Mrs. Nakano made way overenthusiastically for her guests and daughter.

Personally, Azusa didn’t see how her mother could be cold with all the hot air she was expelling, but she kept her opinions to herself. It was still tempting to shoot Rin the same look she’d just given Ritsu for her commentary, but Azusa quelled her more childish impulses. All four seniors bowed politely before entering, even Yui. As Azusa gave her mother and her oppressive aura a wide berth while entering the room, Ritsu stepped up to speak for the group. “Thank you for having us,” the drummer thanked, bowing a second time in a burst of unexpected decorum. “I hope we’re not causing you too much trouble. I’m Ritsu Tainaka, and this is-”

“Oh, I know who you all are,” Rin dismissed quickly as she continued to usher her guests inside and close the door behind them. “Azusa has spoken so fondly of you all, after all. You’re all always welcome in this household. Tainaka-san, Akiyama-san, Kotobuki-san, and Hirasawa-san, of course. I’m Rin Nakano, Azusa’s mother. The pleasure is mine.”

Much as she wanted to yank the grinning deceitful mask her mother was wearing off of her perfectly pampered face, Azusa couldn’t deny that her grandstanding was effective in these situations. As the seniors exchanged their shoes for slippers and Azusa mentally prepared herself for the battle ahead, Tsumugi stepped forward, withdrawing a small wrapped package from her bag. “This is for you, Mrs. Nakano, for your hospitality,” Tsumugi offered, holding out the offering invitingly. “It’s not much, but on behalf of the Light Music Club, I hope you’ll find it to your liking.”

Mrs. Nakano caught herself raising an eyebrow and replaced her initial reaction with an over-the-top gape and a hand placed to her mouth. Internally, Azusa noted the scathing gaze of evaluation Rin was discreetly evaluating Tsumugi with and hoped that the heiress actually knew what she was doing. “Oh, I couldn’t accept this! We’re the ones who invited you all the way out here, after all,” the mother insisted, raising her free hand in polite refusal.

Tsumugi smiled enigmatically yet firmly, continuing to offer up her gift politely. “This is just a small thing, really. I insist you indulge us,” she urged, her tone implying she had rehearsed these lines before.

It suddenly occurred to Azusa that she’d seen this sort of exchange many times from many different visitors to the Nakano museum. It was also clear that Yui was hopelessly lost by the way she kept leaning over to ask Mio what was going on, with diminishing returns. Rin appeared to be thinking along the same lines, and she allowed what was probably a genuine smile to slip out as she accepted the gift with both hands. Removing the carefully wrapped offering with reverence, Azusa was shocked to see her mother’s eyes actually light up. “Tea?” she noted aloud, thumbing rapidly through various packets of tea supplies. “Azusa, did you tell them I like making tea? Ah, it’s not important. Thank you, Kotubuki-san, everyone. This is very thoughtful of you.”

“I get it now!” Yui exclaimed, pounding a fist into her hand and startling Mio. “That’s smart, Mugi-chan! It sums up our band perfectly! We should give tea to every house that we visit!” Impressed by her own deduction, Yui started bobbing back and forth in joy before Mio stopped her with a subtle kick to the back of the knee.

Before Azusa could boot the wincing Yui out of the house herself, Rin laughed lightly. “Ah, so that’s what that means, I see. Well, I appreciate a good cup of tea as much as anyone else. In fact, I have some prepared for everyone. Why don’t you all get acquainted with my husband and have some tea while I finish the dinner preparations? You can leave your bags in the landing area.”

It wasn’t much of a suggestion, rather a command, but nobody had any reason to rebuke the idea. Making their way to the kitchen, Azusa privately made a mental note to hit up a shrine before school on Monday and thank whatever god had decided to make her mother overlook Yui’s antics. Reprimanding Yui with a glare that was matched by Mio, Azusa entered the kitchen and dining room area. The small table that normally occupied one wall of the room was gone, replaced with its larger cousin reserved for gatherings. Seven cups of tea surrounded the oval table, enticing steam that elicited the impression of a backyard after a summer shower with its earthy aroma reminding Azusa that she was still freezing. Sitting at the head of the table with one leg crossed over the other, Mr. Nakano looked up from his magazine. His eyes met Azusa’s long enough for him to smile at her before Azusa jerked her gaze away defiantly. _Focus. It’s an act. You have to remember that it’s an act. Actually, why isn’t dinner ready yet? We’re definitely late. Did mother really expect me to be late? _The thought bothered Azusa more than she wanted it to as her father rose from the head of the table. “Ah, and this must be the great HTT. Welcome, everyone. I’m Azusa’s father, Takumi Nakano. Please, call me Takumi, no need to bother with formalities. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Adjusting his glasses with his left hand, Takumi made to shake hands with the band’s seniors.

The introduction gave Azusa pause. Her mother’s behavior was more or less expected, but her father was acting like he hadn’t spent the last 5 years or so building up his image as a respectable businessman. _Since when can high schoolers be on a first name basis with father? Image is supposed to be everything to the Nakano. Maybe this is some sort of trick I don’t know about. Father won’t even speak so informally with me, not that it matters. What are you two planning? _As if she could find the answers there, Azusa made for the kitchen to assist with dinner preparations, as she always did on nights involving hosting.

Azusa’s crusade for the back of the kitchen was unceremoniously halted by a word and a hand from Rin. “Not tonight, dear,” her mother insisted, leaning down so their guests were out of earshot. “These are your friends, after all. You’re on entertainment duty tonight,” she whispered with that smothering tone that left no room for argument.

Rin had probably done Azusa a favor unintentionally by reminding her that she had at least two volatile bombs that were currently sitting at the table to look after. Nodding once to prove she wasn’t ignoring her mother, Azusa rejoined her friends, making sure to sit between Yui and her father. Allowing herself a sip of tea, Azusa was pleasantly surprised to find that her mother had deigned to put some effort into her preparation tonight. It still didn’t explain her angle, but Azusa wasn’t going to complain about a taste of what she remembered as home. Takumi wasted no time in attempting to ruin this by throwing out casual questions one after another about the band and their activities. Azusa did her best to field them for everyone, but when she did falter, she found a surprisingly competent wingman in Ritsu. Where Azusa lost track of her thoughts, Ritsu picked the ball up and sprinted away with it, embellishing what few good points the club had while completely avoiding the topic of how much time they spent doing anything but practicing. Azusa even managed to take another sip of tea as Ritsu held her ground with Takumi, making the feat look more or less effortless. _Huh. Maybe Ritsu-senpai was just saving her effort for now. Either way, it’s impressive. Too bad she doesn’t actually behave like this. That wouldn’t be Ritsu-senpai though. _Stifling a small chuckle at the thought, Azusa focused on what was happening in time for Yui to try and ruin everything.

“This is really really good, Takumi-san!” Yui praised, no inhibition regarding Takumi’s request or her tea intake to be found. “It’s almost as good as Mugi-chan’s tea!”

Takumi raised an eyebrow, but it was a blushing Tsumugi that responded first. “You’re too kind, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi deflected bashfully, picking at the bandages on her hand as a distraction. “This quality far exceeds my brewing capabilities.” A brief look was exchanged between Tsumugi and Azusa as a certain incident involving tea several weeks ago came to mind.

“You also brew tea, Kotobuki-san?” Rin cut in politely from the other side of the room where she was finishing dinner preparations. “I suppose it would validate the name of your band if you could all prepare tea. Azusa, you make the tea for your senpais, right? Don’t tell me my lazy daughter has been hiding her brewing capabilities from all of you.”

Azusa blanched. She had been prepared to defend her senpai’s lazy tea-drinking habits, not justify not endorsing them. As she scrambled for an excuse she never thought she’d have to make, Ritsu came to the rescue once more. “Oh, we all rotate. We started having tea after school every once in a while as a way to take a break from practicing, and we kept it up because it brings us all closer together. She may be our kouhai, but when it comes to chores and the like, everyone’s an equal.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Tsumugi seconded over Mio’s nervous nodding. “And having this tea now, it’s quite clear that Azusa-chan has learned a lot from you. You should be proud of her.”

It was tempting to glare at Tsumugi, but the effect her compliment had on Azusa’s mother thwarted that plan quickly. Rin actually blushed slightly, swinging her head back towards the food she was preparing to avoid being caught. “Ah, you’re too skilled in flattery for someone your age, Kotobuki-san. My husband could take a cue from you.”

From his chair, Takumi grinned playfully at his wife’s jab while he raised his cup to his lips. “Oh please, we believe in earning compliments here. For example, I like the mentality our daughter’s band has. Healthy bands work as equals, speaking from experience. I should hope Azusa hasn’t caused you all any trouble.”

“Oh no, not at all!” Ritsu laughed off while dismissively waving her hand as Azusa made a note of the lack of conviction in the drummer’s eyes to address later. “I mean, she tends to slack off more than everyone else, so being the diligent leader I am, I have to-ow!” The drummer jolted backwards in her seat as Azusa kicked her leg under the table.

Ignoring Ritsu’s aberrant behavior and her decision to start nursing her leg, Takumi nodded along with the drummer’s baseless claim. Before Ritsu could even think about trying to get back at her kouhai, Rin rejoined the others at the table properly, carrying a full pot of tea. “That’s wonderful to hear. Little Azusa here can be quite the handful when she wants to be. Please, drink as much as you like, Hirasawa-san,” Rin encouraged, refilling Yui’s already empty cup that had more or less kept her from speaking since they sat down.

The urge to verbally strike back at her mother was confused by the obvious affection Yui was emitting towards Rin, until she realized where Yui’s gaze actually was. _She’s already got Yui wrapped around her finger. It’s like she knew Yui can be bought with any kind of food or drink. Maybe I should have cancelled after all. _Wondering how she could get Yui’s attention before she said something everyone would regret was interrupted by Mio. “Pardon me, ah, Takumi-san, but I believe you mentioned speaking from experience? Were you in a band once?”

Mio had spoken even less than Yui the whole time, spending most of her attention on Ritsu and making sure she didn’t say anything that would warrant positive punishment. When she did speak up, her diversion was enough for Rin and Takumi to give Mio their spotlight of curiosity. “Azusa didn’t tell you? Rin and I played in jazz band together for years. We were good, too, better than anyone gave us credit for. You should have heard us in our heyday, we could fill live houses better than any other band out there. The sell-outs, they’d call us.” A nostalgic expression was contained behind Mr. Nakano’s glasses as he looked off into the distance at a setting sun only he could see.

Rin shook her head as her husband continued to reminisce over the good old days. “Still as deluded as ever. One, nobody called us that, two, that’s not a compliment, and three, if that were true, we’d still be doing it.” The chiding nature of Rin’s commentary was muddled by the fondness she looked at her husband with.

For a moment, Azusa could have tricked herself into thinking her family had entered the room, but she shook the useless hope off. _It must be because our guests aren’t professionals. They think acting more natural will appeal to them more. I need to figure out why. _That in mind, Azusa redoubled her focus on her father’s ongoing conversation. “-but that’s all in the past now. I wish I had more time to play, but in addition to that, I don’t want to wear my guitar down. Good lefty models just aren’t as easy to come by, you know?”

“I knew it!” Mio cried out suddenly, standing up straight and barely avoiding spilling everyone’s tea. “I knew you were a lefty too! You have to tell me about your experiences as a left-handed guitarist! What kind of picks did you use? Where did you get your guitars from? Do you have any good playing tips?” As she crossed the table to approach Takumi, Mio spared a conspicuous glance with a clear message for Azusa to her. _Ritsu’s getting bored and Yui’s getting full. Get them out of here before they do something stupid. _

Recognizing her marching orders, Azusa rose from her seat awkwardly as Mio continued her own advance. “If you two are going to discuss left-handed stuff, why don’t I show the rest my friends around the house while mother finishes dinner?” Azusa suggested to her father, hoping she sounded at least somewhat normal. “Mio-senpai is a big fan of lefties. I’m sure you have plenty of questions, Mio-senpai, right?”

Mio nodded distractedly, making Azusa wonder how much of Mio’s plan was for her benefit and not Mio’s own vested self-interest in left-handed culture. Mr. Nakano hardly batted an eye at Mio’s approach. “I take it you’re a fellow south paw then. Well, lefties have to stick together. If you don’t mind listening to my rambling, I’m happy to do it.”

Already returning to the stove, Rin offered a thumbs up to her daughter. Taking this as a sign that she was in the clear, Azusa herded her somewhat confused club sans Mio out of the room, taking their tea with them. As soon as they were out of earshot, Azusa released a breath she’d been holding. _Well, that’s the initial reaction down. Now I just need to get through dinner. Stay calm. We’re not done yet. _It was as Azusa motivated herself that she noticed three senpais giving her strange looks. “What?” she asked, tilting her head.

“What do you mean, what? Are we supposed to show ourselves around?” Ritsu nagged irritably. “What kind of host are you?”

Suddenly embarrassed, Azusa ducked her head down while muttering something along the lines of right this way. As they explored the halls and mostly empty rooms, Yui started to perk up, rapid consumption of tea beginning to kick in for her. “Azu-nyan, your house is cool!” Yui praised in between sips of tea. “It’s way more flat than my house! You must like it a lot, huh?”

Biting her tongue so she didn’t remind Yui that she’d seen this house before, Azusa waited for her brain to kick in before speaking. “It’s a house,” she responded noncommittally, putting more emphasis on her next point with a step forward. “More importantly, watch yourself. If it weren’t for Ritsu-senpai, we’d be screwed, and she only barely covered for you. You’re lucky she decided to be reliable tonight. Just walk around and stay qui-eh? Ritsu-senpai?” Azusa cut herself off as she noticed a certain drummer tearing up.

Sniffling, Ritsu wiped her eyes. “Sorry, it’s just… that was such a nice compliment. Nobody ever calls me reliable.” She beamed at her kouhai. “I told you, didn’t I?” she jeered, giving the hallway a thumbs up.

Shaking her head to disguise her private approval, Azusa motioned everyone alone. “Dinner hasn’t started yet. If you want me to praise you, then do something praiseworthy at dinner,” she challenged her senpai, sounding dangerously similar to her own mother. “Let’s finish up. There isn’t much to see here.”

The three senpais followed Azusa with varying degrees of smiles. Yui had fallen silent, which for Azusa hopefully meant that she was at least considering behaving herself. It was as the quartet reached Azusa’s room, brushing right over the other homogenous rooms in the house, that the strings on her carefully strung guitar of tranquility began to snap. “Well, it’s just my room and a bathroom upstairs,” Azusa droned on in her apathetic tour guide voice as her senpais fanned out to inspect the immaculately cleaned space. “Please don’t mess anything up.”

“Damn, the floor’s vacuumed,” Ritsu noted, stomping around in admiration. “This is nothing like Mio’s hovel. Can we get her up here, infect her with your cleaning bug?”

“Your room is very tidy, Azusa-chan,” Tsumugi chirped, admiring the plush cat she’d given Azusa last week that had found a home by her nightstand. “I like the décor, too. It’s very you.” The validity of Tsumugi’s praise was of dubious quality, considering where she was looking, but Azusa accepted the compliments without hesitation.

Ambling over to her nightstand to inspect it for lack of something else to do, Azusa nodded, partially to herself. “I try to keep things organized and put away,” the kouhai explained away, wondering if she overdid things. “Messy environments are hard to work with.” It occurred to Azusa that Yui could easily call her out on this from her last visit, but said Yui was far more interested in jumping on her kouhai’s mattress.

“I remember this bed!” Yui exclaimed, jumping up and down a few times before flopping down in a familiar position while somehow not sending tea everywhere. “Ah, good times. Azu-nyan, you’re lucky. This bed is both soft and jumpable. That’s like, physically impossible.” Yui’s return to form only seemed interested in popping up in ways that created difficult to explain situations.

The implication wasn’t lost on Ritsu or her raised eyebrow, first in confusion at Yui, then suggestively at Azusa. With a guilty blush, the younger guitarist focused on restraining the guitarist before she dealt with the drummer’s teasing. Storming over to her airheaded senpai, Azusa yanked Yui up by her arm. “What part of behave don’t you understand?!” she berated in a carping tone while trying to smooth out the senior’s new tousled hairdo and make her presentable again. “Do you not care about whether or not I get kicked out of the club?”

At that threat, Yui’s posture was immediately straightened and she stepped away from Azusa’s coddling. “My apologies, senpai!” Yui proclaimed with a deadly serious tone, eliciting a sigh from her kouhai. 

As Tsumugi investigated the mundane objects on Azusa’s nightstand with slightly disturbing interest, Azusa decided to face the music and head downstairs before Yui found a way to send the room to the first floor. “That’s about everything in the house, I think,” she explained, feeling drained. “There’s really nothing that interesting in here aside from pictures you’ve seen already, so Ritsu-senpai, stop!” Azusa cried out as Ritsu decided to peek into a drawer she absolutely couldn’t look in.

Ritsu looked up, Pandora’s Box hanging open in front of her. In her hands were a terrifyingly familiar pair of cat ears. “Azusa, how many of these do you have?” Ritsu questioned, waving her chosen pair around as she dug through the drawer with her other hand. “I mean, how many cat ears do you really need? You know, we can buy you more if you really want them, but I’m starting to think you might have a problem, one that makes me concerned for the future of the Light Music Club.”

“My my my, this is quite the collection you’ve accumulated,” Tsumugi commented, looking on as she stroked the plush cat the way comically evil people did in old movies. “Did you buy all these yourself?”

Stamping her foot on the ground, Azusa snatched the infernal piece of plastic out of Ritsu’s hands. “Of course not! Mou, I told you not to open that. I don’t wear any of these, it’s just that you people won’t stop buying them for me. What else am I supposed to do with them?”

“Oh, I have an idea or two,” Ritsu goaded with a glimmer in her eye, already digging into the drawer for another pair. “We kept giving them to you because you kept saying you lost them. Hmm, don’t tell me you just wanted to increase your cat ear collection, Nakano? Devious, very devious. Yes, you’ll make a fine club president.” The line felt far less encouraging this time around.

Blushing furiously, Azusa threw the pink pair of cat ears she was holding on the ground in frustration. Ritsu’s grin only widened as Azusa sputtered to defend herself. “It’s not like that, you jerk! Just because I don’t want them doesn’t mean I’m inconsiderate enough to throw a gift away. I told you multiple times to stop, but none of you listened. Now I have a drawer full of this junk. I take back what I said. You’re the least reliable person I know.” That Ritsu chose to beam at her kouhai in response told Azusa that she wasn’t being taken seriously.

“If you think it’s junk, why don’t you throw it away?” Yui posited, genuinely confused from her reclaimed position on the bed. “You should purchase your own cat ears if you don’t like the ones we buy, Azu-nyan. Oh, I could put stickers on them so you don’t lose them!” Pleased with herself, Yui grinned cheekily at her kouhai.

It was a herculean struggle not to give up on the conversation entirely. Instead, Azusa made a point of dumping the cat ears she’d just floored into the trash. “Yui-senpai, I told you I didn’t want these. I kept them this long because…” Floundering for a reasonable excuse, Azusa was left with only the inconvenient truth. “I feel bad throwing gifts away, no matter how unwanted! It’s wasteful.” Yui pierced through Azusa with her gaze, making Azusa wonder what she said that could make Yui look at her like that.

She didn’t get a chance to find out before the rustling of plastic caught her attention. Ritsu, likely with some devious idea stuck in her head, was rummaging around in the cat ear drawer, tossing pair after pair aside as she hunted for whatever it was that was important enough to warrant ruining Azusa’s room. Tsumugi scooped up one of the pairs of cat ears that Ritsu had tossed particularly far, inspecting it like it was an uncut diamond. The rush Azusa attempted to stop her inconsiderate drummer was halted by hands on her head. The telltale sensation of a plastic headband being placed on Azusa’s head assaulted her senses. She spun around in time to see Yui nodding approvingly at her handiwork, having placed a pair of black cat ears on Azusa’s head. The childish, real enthusiasm etched on a shining face momentarily stunned the kouhai out of berating her senpai. “Azu-nyan! Say nya! Nya!” Yui encouraged, pawing at the air with her hands.

Azusa was dumbfounded. At least when she got here, Azusa could have pretended that Yui was at least trying to act like a normal student. It bothered her that all bets were apparently off the second an even remotely cute pair of cat ears entered the picture. She might have stood frozen in that moment forever had another pair of cat ears not hit her in the back of the head, Ritsu evidently not privy to the wake of her destructive path. “Nya!” Azusa exclaimed in surprise, whirling around in rage and preparing to impeach the club president.

“No no, Azu-nyan, you have to put more feeling into it!” Yui insisted, circling her kouhai to face her again with astounding speed. “Like this: Nya!”

Azusa had no idea how what Yui had said was any different from what she accidentally said, but she wasn’t of the mind to think about it. “Nya!” she got out before her patience completely ran thin or Ritsu claimed another victim in her rampage.

As soon as the word left her mouth, a clearing of the throat made Azusa’s blood run cold. Rin stood at the doorway, eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to make sense of the scene in front of her. Yui and Azusa were planted in the center of the room, their hands frozen in a pawing motion with cat ears on Azusa’s head. Ritsu stood by the dresser, muttering something under her breath while surrounded by various pairs of cat ears. Tsumugi was still in the corner, wearing the cat ears she’d picked up while petting her birthday gift to Azusa tenderly like nothing was happening. Azusa couldn’t even begin to think of a reasonable excuse, so instead she opted to wait the agonizing seconds it took for her mother to respond. “If you want to cosplay, do it after dinner, dear,” Rin ordained brusquely, her face an impassive mask. “Come along now, it’s time for dinner. You can clean your room again later.” With that, Rin left the room without so much as a raised voice.

Azusa was speechless once more. Her only justification for her mother’s behavior was the woman’s desire not to upset guests. Had this not been her mother’s idea, Azusa was sure that her mother would have exploded. Seizing the opportunity, Azusa swung around to face her three senpais, who were in various states of confusion. “Would you three focus for two seconds? I brought you up here so you wouldn’t embarrass all of us. Do you not give a shit about whether I’m in the band or not?” She took the cat ears off her head and shoved them into Yui’s hands. “I told you all how I felt, didn’t I?”

For a brief instant, Azusa was terrified that Yui was going to disagree. The way she met Azusa’s question with those deep, empty brown orbs of hers made Azusa feel more lost than ever before. It was like Yui was asking her that question again. _Are you listening? _The nebulous query reverberated through Azusa’s consciousness until Yui blinked, and all Azusa could see in front of her was her remorseful senpai. “I’m sorry, Azu-nyan! You were just so cute that I-“ Yui shook her head vigorously. “I’m sorry! I’ll be super proper now, I promise!”

Ritsu only shrugged, her gaze still flitting over to the car ear drawer. “Sorry about that. You got me excited about something I had to check on, but I guess I overdid it. Don’t worry, I’ll clear it up if I have to. Mugi, work off of me at dinner, too,” Ritsu commanded, closing the drawer and making her way to the door.

Tsumugi nodded complacently, following Ritsu out the door while regretfully leaving her gift and the cat ears behind. Yui nodded encouragingly to Azusa as she followed her friends out the door, leaving Azusa alone in a room that was clean not three minutes ago. The kouhai nudged a pair of stray cat ears with her foot as she gathered her thoughts. _I guess there’s still a chance dinner could go well. A meteor might hit the house too. That’d be about as likely. At least some of them are trying. I just need to hold Yui together for the rest of the evening, then I can make her shape up. _The door was just a bit easier to reach with this plan in mind.

Arriving at the dinner table to an actively conversing Takumi and Mio, Azusa couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed by the spread laid out for her and her guests. Her mother wasn’t kidding when she said she’d have her favorite foods spread out for her. Begrudging admiration for her mother’s attention to detail welled up within Azusa as she took her seat. Were Yui not there to fill the role, Azusa might have been the first to attempt to stuff her face the second she sat down. The enticing scent of fried food was motivation enough on its own without having to stare down the source itself. Mentally screaming at herself to exhibit restraint, Azusa managed to serve herself last, not taking any more food than anyone else. As her mother poured fresh tea for everyone, the urge to relax subtly tugged at the weaker parts of Azusa’s resolve. _Maybe they’re going to behave themselves, and nothing will happen. People don’t talk while we’re eating. _

“So, I’ve heard what you all do, but I’d like to hear more about how you all met. Please, tell me everything, I’m curious,” Rin insisted, retrieving a small portion of food for herself.

The four seniors eyed each other carefully, tossing around responsibility for fielding the question in their heads before everyone’s gaze fell to Ritsu. Recognizing the implication, Ritsu cleared her throat. “Well, Mio and I have known each other since we were little kids. We recruited Mugi and Yui into the club early on in our freshmen year, and Azusa here joined us last year after hearing one of our performances.”

Rin nodded thoughtfully, pushing her food around her plate. “I take it you’re the club president, then?” she presumed by the way everyone was looking at her. “It’s unusual to have a drummer leading a band. Are the other members of the Light Music Club okay with this? What are they like?”

Under different circumstances, Azusa would have raised her numerous objections to Ritsu’s presidency, but she knew to hold her tongue for the moment. “Oh, we’re the entirety of the club,” Ritsu explained around a mouthful of sushi. “We prevented the club from being disbanded by joining our freshman year as the only members.”

Takumi chewed noisily as he nodded in approval. “Interesting. That takes resolve, to forge a path where there isn’t one. I respect that, Ritsu-san,” Mr. Nakano commended warmly.

Seeing her father laud someone else so genuinely like that send a pang of annoying longing through Azusa. _Stop it. You don’t want fool’s gold anyways. You don’t!_ Ritsu blushed slightly at the praise and buried herself in her food.

As Mio and Tsumugi smiled at Ritsu’s embarrassment, Azusa had a brief dissociative moment where she thought it was possible that nothing would actually go wrong, that her parents didn’t have some ulterior motive in mind. Rin was quick to execute these delusions. “So, with that in mind, I’m sure that means you four are thinking about your plans for next year, aren’t you?” she posited. “We’ve got our Azusa on the path to college, but I’d love to hear what her band is planning to do next year. Where are you all going?”

The question could have been as inappropriate as where do you wash first in the bath and the club would have been more eager to respond. Truthfully, Azusa figured that Yui probably would have volunteered the information without question, something she made a mental note to try asking later for scientific purposes. As it stood, the consumption of food completely ceased for everyone but Takumi. Mio and Yui exchanged looks while Ritsu kept her eyes on a plate that wasn’t getting any cleaner. “Ah, well we’ve more or less decided to go to college, but most of us haven’t decided where yet,” Mio spoke up for the four of them.

Setting his chopsticks down, Mr. Nakano clicked his tongue. “You four should get on that then, especially you, lefty buddy. Someone with grades like yours shouldn’t dawdle on these opportunities. Do you have any leads at least?” When nobody immediately responded, he pressed on, his voice becoming more terse with every word. “There’s innumerable factors to consider, you know, so you ought to start now if you haven’t. Cost, for one. That’s a biggie. Then there’s education quality, university prestige, location and accommodations provided, faculty quality, research and studying abroad opportunities, campus life, clubs, not to mention that all of that has to come after deciding what you’re going to study and where you want that path of study to take you. Career paths are paved many years in advance, after all. That’s what we’ve learned at least.”

Depressing fireworks went off in Ritsu and Yui’s heads as they exploded from the overload of information. The assault sat poorly with Azusa as well, a pit forming in her stomach as she was reminded of the nature of the impending task looming over her. _Well, it’s not like I’ll have much of a real choice. Only so many schools let you be a success, I’m sure. _

“All good points,” Rin agreed easily, the only person unaffected by the deluge of information. “But as you said, it all comes after you decide what career you’re going after. To be successful, you have to carefully plan out what you’re doing and go after what you want. We’re doing our best to ensure our Azusa is able to get into a college prestigious enough to allow her to pursue whatever profitable career she wants. That’s why we’re doing our best to be able to bankroll her so long as she meets us halfway in the grade and effort department. She knows how to work hard and win in this unfair world, don’t you, honey?”

Nodding once, Azusa allowed her thoughts to be swallowed along with a mouthful of food. _I know that you only care about how I make you look. Playing a guitar isn’t as good a look as owning a guitar, right? Why don’t you just tell the truth? What the hell does success even mean? _The mixtures of confusion and even possibly pity Azusa was getting in the form of looks from her bandmates only aggravated her further, but she refused to allow herself to do anything but simmer silently. _I’m not a charity case. I want to be successful, so there’s nothing wrong with using my parents for that, since it mutually benefits us. I’m Azusa Nakano, and I’m going to win what I want. I don’t need help. _

“So, if not a university yet, did you all have careers in mind?” Rin moved on. “I’m sure you know that musicians aren’t able to sustain themselves in this economy, or any, for that matter. It’s a wonderful hobby though.” The dismissal of what Azusa knew was Yui’s real desire might have brought a frown to the senpai’s face were she not still reeling from the earlier assault.

It was clear that Ritsu and Yui were still down for the count, the prospect of such a large and imminent undertaking too much for them. Mio wasn’t much better, her chopsticks quavering in her hand such that she couldn’t pick anything up with them, though if Azusa asked she was sure that Mio would claim to be fine. Steeling herself to lie on behalf of her senpais, Azusa actually jumped in her chair a little when Tsumugi spoke up. “Though I can’t go into much detail, I’m supposed to start inheriting some portions of my father’s conglomerate shortly after college. The application for the job may be a formality, but I’m required to attend university to prepare myself for that eventuality. Actually, I’ve used that time to start helping the others figure out their college plans. We’re doing our best to incorporate all of the factors you mentioned while studying for general entrance exams, and I’m confident we’ll reach a consensus soon.” The answer was textbook perfect, like Tsumugi had pulled it straight from an answer sheet on an impossible exam.

The effect of Tsumugi’s response had a ubiquitous calming effect on the other people in the room. Tension that Azusa didn’t notice had been building within her began to ease. Ritsu and Yui slowly came to life again, nodding along with Tsumugi like they’d meant to follow her plan the whole time. Even Rin backed off, her shoulders sagging a little in her seat. “Is that right?” she mused aloud. “Well, I’m glad you seem to have a handle on things, Kotobuki-san.” Following the sense of calm was a pervasive awkwardness that Azusa hid from within her food.

Rin didn’t press anyone else on their future plans, fortunately. Mio was busy staring curiously at Tsumugi, a question Azusa couldn’t identify being asked in her gaze while the brunettes stared at their plates. Eventually, however, Mio broke her stare to attempt to carry the conversation away from the current topic. “So Azusa-chan has mentioned that you both played in a band together as well?” she prompted towards the parents.

“Oh, it’s a bit embarrassing, but yes, we were in a jazz band together,” Rin agreed quickly, evidently not used to such silences herself. “It was a different time. We were young and thought we could be the one in a million group that made it. What fools we were. Almost cost us everything.” This revelation was news to Azusa if it was true, but she remained quiet.

“You say almost because we were smart enough to know when to bow out,” Takumi chipped in. “When you hear bands preaching that unity crap, ah, excuse me, unity dung, it’s a massive death flag for that band. Close knit bands always fall out the hardest and fastest. It’s a miracle we survived as long as we did. The world isn’t so rosy as to ordain that your bandmates have to like each other to sound good.” His statement was abjectly wrong to Azusa, but even as she opened her mouth, her rebuttal was coming out of someone else’s mouth.

“That’s wrong!” Yui exclaimed defiantly. “The heart of a band is the bond between the members! Bands that don’t get along can’t work!”

Ritsu and Mio looked like they wanted to shatter Yui’s delusion but recognized that now probably wasn’t the best time for it. Rin went ahead and took care of it for them. “I apologize, but you’re simply wrong, Hirasawa-san. Many bands have made their best musical works while despising each other the whole time. The real world isn’t like high school.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Yui insisted, standing up in righteous anger. “What we do together sounds good. I don’t know anything about the future, but I know that making music with Azu-nyan and the others is a lot of fun! What we do is special!”

Rin opened her mouth, a stinging rebuttal preparing to shoot Yui down, but Takumi cleared his throat for attention first. “If you really believe that, you wouldn’t mind showing me, would you? I’d love to play for a bit with you.” he invited.

Azusa’s blood ran cold as she suddenly saw where her father was going with everything. _Is their goal… to crush the band’s spirit? If they hear father play knowing that he had to quit the business, then they might- _“Father, are you-“

“Of course I’ll show you!” Yui accepted readily, interrupting Azusa. “When we play together, Azu-nyan and the rest of us are inseparable. We always pull through, win and succeed because we always have fun when we play. I’m gonna play with Azu-nyan and the others forever, so I’d love to show you what I mean!” The confidence Yui emitted didn’t change the fact that Yui couldn’t read sheet music in Azusa’s head, and that her father was on a completely different level from the rest of them.

Appearing to catch up to and process the nickname Yui was using for her daughter, Rin rose from her seat as well. “Honey, I understand how you feel, but please don’t overdo it. As you said, guitar replacement is an unnecessary expense.” Hearing her mother’s lack of defense only reassured Azusa’s anxious mind that her suspicions were correct.

Even if Azusa wanted to stop Yui at this point, however, she knew it was impossible. There was nothing but blazing fire in Yui’s eyes, single-minded determination to prove her point absorbing every modicum of the standing girl’s being. _She’s right. I know Yui is right. But father is obviously going to try and prove her wrong. Father’s better than Yui, right? They both have that infuriating ability to take up all my attention. But Mugi-senpai and the others asked me to put my faith in my senpais. If I really want to stay with them, I should be able to trust them, even Yui. _“Do your best, Yui-senpai,” Azusa found herself cheering on quietly, unsure if she actually intended to speak out loud or not.

Yui spared Azusa a look that exuded pleasantly surprised warmth, one that made Azusa almost regret taking such a tender look from her senpai, before Yui turned her attention back to Takumi. “I will,” she responded simply. “Are you able to play now? I can have Giita ready in a few minutes,” the guitarist insisted.

Takumi motioned to his food. “I understand how you feel, and I’m excited too, but I must insist we finish my wife’s cooking first. That’s why we’re here in the first place, and I’d hate for all of this to go to waste.”

A trace of normal Yui returned as the guitarist eyed her partially finished plate. Without much of a fight, her hungry side won, and Yui was back to finishing her meal with a simple nod to denote her acquiescence. Dinner continued and light conversation made its way around the table like nothing had happened, but the tension Tsumugi had diffused had clearly returned. Nobody wanted to acknowledge the gauntlet that had been thrown, but the fact that nobody brought up music after the event said far more than any spoken words. Azusa was left with mixed emotions. She’d waited for years and even given up hope of ever hearing the day her father or mother played again, but the circumstances and time had made it difficult for the junior to tell if this was truly what she still wanted. As dinner came to an uneventful conclusion, Azusa’s thoughts began to consolidate themselves while the stage was set for the sudden showdown. _This still doesn’t make sense. If this is what they’re doing, they’re going about it in an unnecessarily circuitous way. I don’t get it. I shouldn’t still want to hear him play. I have Yui and the others now. Yes, I chose HTT, so Yui has to prove that the bonds still mean something. Yui has to win. _

* * *

**November 19th, The Living Room**

Giita was reliable. Contact with Giita, picking him up for performances or practices or to pose in the mirror always invigorated Yui. It wasn’t quite the same as hugging one of her friends or Azusa, but Giita was undeniably a dependable source of energy for the senior. Perhaps it was because Yui was already brimming with vigor, then, that she didn’t feel anything from Giita as she slipped her guitar over her shoulder in the Nakano’s living room. The group had migrated to the room where the Nakanos kept their amps and guitars, though neither had seen much use over the years by the light brown layer of dust covering them. It was frankly kind of gross, but Yui only had one train of thought running through her as she got herself set up to play. _This is okay. Azu-nyan wants HTT, and this is the best way I can appeal to her parents. I can’t be refined like Mugi-chan, smart like Mio-chan, or quick on my feet like Ricchan. This is the only way I can tell them how I feel about Azu-nyan and the band clearly. This is the only side of Yui they need to see, the only one that matters. They have to understand that I need them and why I can’t tell them that directly. Wait, that’s confusing. Mou, just get ready, Yui! Don’t think about it! Be selfish!_

The other members of HTT had found themselves sitting on pins and needles on the couch facing the center of the room, with Rin leaning on the back of said couch behind the girls. Azusa was the most pensive, flitting her eyes between the standing guitarists. When she caught Yui’s eye, she spurned the inquisitive look the senior gave her by training her gaze on the ground. Forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand, Yui took center stage behind a coffee table and sized up her partner. Takumi had removed one of the guitars stored in glass cases from the room and was setting up himself with clear reverence for his instrument. He smiled warmly when he noticed Yui staring at him and returned to his work without a word. _I don’t get it. He doesn’t seem like a bad guy. I mean, he’s wrong about bands, but he seems nice otherwise. Why doesn’t Azu-nyan like her parents? They seem okay. Maybe they’re just not home often, like mom and dad? No, that doesn’t make sense, Azu-nyan is smarter than me. Azu-nyan is great. She asked me on a date. What does that mean? It doesn’t make sense, just like everything else that’s happened. Why couldn’t I just be happy with how things were? I wanted the band to stay together, and I tried to change things. Selfish Yui. No, shove it down, Yui. Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it! I just have to be the Yui everyone wants. I can be selfish. I can be happy just like this. I’m lucky to be happy like this. Why does that have to be something you have to be lucky to be? _

“Don’t need a tuner?” Takumi questioned, bursting into Yui’s thoughts as the guitarist stared blankly at him. “You must have some experience then.”

Blinking herself back into reality, Yui nodded, quickly tuning her instrument without thinking. “Yep! I’ve been playing forever! I know all the songs at this point, basically, ehehe.” The lie was of shady flea market hand-me-down quality at best, but Takumi only smiled.

“Confident. I like that. You could learn a thing or two from her, Azusa,” Takumi advised his daughter while plugging his guitar into an amp.

Azusa looked like she badly wanted to say something, but a glare from her mother was all it took to keep the kouhai silent. It occurred to Yui that she might not be looking at an accurate image of who Azusa’s parents were through her currently available lens. With that information, she felt compelled to say something in her kouhai’s defense. “Azu-nyan taught me a lot about how to play,” Yui endorsed, hoping she was being helpful. “She’s way better at guitar than I am.”

The statement caught Takumi’s attention in a way that made Azusa look like she wanted to punch her senpai. Realizing she must have said something wrong, Yui could only watch as Takumi sighed. “Is that right? Well, we’ll see. Why don’t you try following along with this, then, Yui-san?” he suggested, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“You got this, Yui!” Ritsu cheered encouragingly, the only member of the band who appeared to be comfortable with the current situation. “Show him the Light Music Club special!”

Unsure if she was supposed to know what that meant, Yui looked to Mio, who only shook her head slightly. Confirming that Ritsu was making things up, Yui gave the drummer a confident thumbs up and turned back towards Takumi. The guitarist could feel her muscles beginning to tense up, her balance wavering as uncertainty crept up within her. It was like that for most of her performances, but it was usually easy just to swallow her trepidation and focus her borrowed energy on the members of the band who had a harder time doing so. Standing alone, Yui felt like she was trying to swallow a watermelon whole. Steadying her breathing, Yui closed her eyes. _No. I’m Yui. Yui doesn’t get nervous. Yui has to be there for her friends. Yui can’t let them see me ever again. Not on a date, not at school, and not here. That’s the only way I can stay happy with them, no matter what. _Yui allowed the shine in her eyes to tell Takumi how she felt as she opened them once more.

Takumi grinned, allowing his combed hair to fall in uneven black tangled strands around his brow. The mild-mannered businessman evaporated as he removed his glasses in a move that elicited an image in Yui’s head of the first time she’d seen Sawako’s metal side. As his fingers took hold of the aged fretboard, Takumi grinned wickedly at his foe. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

In less than twelve seconds, Yui was lost. She hadn’t forgotten what she was supposed to be doing, thankfully, but watching Takumi’s hands dance and swing across the fretboard like trapeze artists in a circus was mesmerizing enough without even factoring in the sound they made. His sound was complex, fast, nuanced, but it wasn’t loud or grating the way Sawako’s music sounded. Rather, there was something comforting about Takumi’s music, giving the impression of a harried maid working to ensure the house was perfectly clean for her master rather than the rampaging bull that Yui had partially been expecting. For all the complex movements behind the scenes, the final product was unabashedly calming, and Yui felt her muscles begin to relax as she began to daydream about Azusa’s bed again. It was a deceptive tactic, really. The same two chords echoed back and forth to lure the listener into a state of complacency before a complex fingering pattern jerked the unsuspecting listener into a solo that could make fingers bleed just by being near it. Despite that, Takumi never pushed things too far, never challenged the preconception of the listener that they could expect anything but warmth and compassion from his music. Rocking gently back and forth in place, Takumi brought his solo to a close, smiling to himself like an idiot. As he let his audience drift back into reality with him, he gave Yui polite nod, along with a rueful smile. “Something simple like that, anyways. Do you think you could manage that?”

A glance to Azusa showed Yui that the kouhai was still gone, entranced in the world her father had created. Her bandmates weren’t faring much better. Even Rin appeared to be distracted, thumbing the handle of her teacup absently. Not even Takumi’s words could immediately shatter her trance. Tightening her grip on her guitar, Yui found the courage she didn’t have herself to meet Takumi’s eyes. Instead of responding to him, Yui began to play. The underlying chords were easy. Up down, one, two, don’t press your finger all the way down but mute the e string. Yui could feel the attention of the room groggily turning to her as she copied Takumi’s solo. It was as the more complicated parts were supposed to begin that Yui had a decision to make. _I heard what he sounds like, more or less. I can’t copy it, though. My fingers can’t move that fast. I practice every day, and he’s still faster than me. This must be what it means to be an adult musician. That… just means I have to be someone else. I’m Yui Hirasawa. My friends and I are in a band together. We have tea, snacks, and play music every day. And my friends are graduating soon. I don’t want them to go. _It was this feeling that Yui put into her own rendition of Takumi’s solo. In truth, she had no idea how she sounded as her hand strummed up and down frantically, her fingers flying across the fretboard like frantic trapeze artists. Whether the piece sounded good or not mattered little to her, her original mission forgotten as she put everything she was feeling into the movements of her fingers. When she ran out of things to say, she stopped, bringing the train she’d been driving to a screeching halt rather than allowing it to arrive at the station smoothly.

There was silence in the room. Yui allowed herself to look at her audience, mixtures of disbelief and confusion on their faces. “Yui…” Ritsu whispered quietly. “What the actual hell was that?”

Embarrassed, Yui rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah, I don’t know. I couldn’t perfectly follow what Takumi-san was doing, so I just started making stuff up,” she admitted.

“That was terrible,” Mio bluntly informed the guitarist, causing her to start moping. “I mean, it sort of sounded like Takumi-san’s solo, but there was a lot of… you in it? Mou, I don’t know. Why didn’t you just say you couldn’t play it?”

“Terrible?” Takumi cut in. “You think so? For a first attempt at a song like that without sheet music, she had the basics nailed down. It wasn’t pretty, but you far exceeded my expectations, Yui-san.”

Having her opinion so quickly refuted caused Mio to retreat into her shell, coaxing from Ritsu required to make her sit up straight again. Yui felt her own mood improve at Takumi’s encouragement, though somebody else’s reaction still had most of her attention. The whole time, Azusa had been staring at Yui, her expression unreadable. “Azusa-chan?” Tsumugi prompted, nudging the kouhai. “What did you think?”

Jumping in her seat, Azusa almost fled the room before she recognized what was going on. “Huh? Oh, father played well,” Azusa remarked, looking away. “As expected.”

Takumi chuckled. “Glad to hear it, kid. Well, that’s my opening move. How do you want to respond, Yui-san? Show me that bond power you were going on about earlier, and see if it does you any good alone.” The dialogue was cheesy enough without Takumi raising a clawed hand to his face like an edgy antihero.

From behind the couch, Rin sighed dramatically. “Honestly, do you have to go into chunibyo mode every time you pick that thing up? It ruins the angelic effect of your music.”

Takumi’s instinctual response was to stick his tongue out at his wife. “One mom is more than enough for me, honey, I don’t need two. Let me play with my daughter’s friend how I want.” He refocused his attention to Yui, the smirk returning. “Now, show me what you can really do. I want to hear one of your songs.” He strummed his strings in an obviously challenging manner.

Yui was uncertain how she was supposed to feel. There were too many conflicting emotions coming at her at once, making her want to take a nap. Without that option, music was the only avenue she had for escape. “Okay. This song is called U&I,” she informed Takumi with unnatural calmness. “I… please listen.” The purpose of her song had become muddled, and while Yui still felt the urge to play, her driving purpose had morphed from proving a point to trying to regain her own musical bearings after her last showing.

_Our bonds matter. It’s not about talent, the future, or anything else. Why can’t right now matter? _Holding that question in mind, Yui started to play once more.

There was nobody else in the clubroom. That was to be expected, since she was the only person who could have shown up today. It really didn’t matter to her where she was, one way or another. Giita had taken her to so many places that it had become impossible to settle on liking any one place more than the other. U&I just happened to place her in the clubroom more often than not. It only then occurred to Yui that the last time she’d played this song she had company. Turning, Yui felt saddened to see nobody there. It was expected, but it left her with a dour taste of nostalgia, the way one remembers completed homework that they left at home on the due date and have no hope of retrieving. It was as Yui was looking for company that she was startled to find it. Shaking her head, Yui found herself back in the living room, Azusa standing confidently in front of her. She was playing the rhythm part of U&I flawlessly, but that wasn’t what had Yui baffled. _Azu-nyan is playing? When did that happen? She’s still on the couch. _A glance to the couch and Azusa’s puzzled expression to confirm this almost caused Yui to lose her focus. _Whoops, that was close. But there’s two Azu-nyans? __How does that work? Which one is Azu-nyan? _Trying to justify the anomaly in her head was impossible, so Yui’s sound died out slowly as her hand found her head.

Azusa’s part ended itself around the same time Yui’s did, followed by a light chuckle from Mr. Nakano. “I take it I was playing that part correctly, then? Good to know I’ve still got it.”

“That’s impossible!” Azusa protested, finally speaking up while flying out of her seat. “No matter how good you are, you shouldn’t be able to figure out the rhythm section immediately just by hearing the lead part alone! You’re impossible!” The frustration in her eyes startled everyone, most of all Azusa’s father.

The man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Azusa was reprimanded with a harsh word from her mother. “Well, maybe I’m just lucky, then,” he justified poorly, fiddling with his strings. “I do have a beautiful wife and daughter, after all.”

The compliment threw Azusa off of her train of thought completely, and she sat down again with a huff. Rin looked like she wanted to say something more to her daughter, but she only sighed. “Did you ask our guest to play with you so you could hurl meaningless compliments at us?” she accused lightly. “You’ve made your point. Do you have what you need yet?”

“I don’t know, do I?” Takumi responded, asking Yui that very question with a look.

Yui flinched under the man’s gaze. The gap between her and adult guitar players had seemed large enough from watching Sawako perform, but this man was on another level. Worse, he was making the band uncomfortable. _Maybe this was a bad idea. I should have listened to Azu-nyan and stayed quiet. I don’t want to make the others look bad. I want to keep playing with Azusa. _ “Perhaps we should stop for now?” Mio suggested lightly. “I think we all have a good idea of-“

“Are you kidding?” Ritsu interrupted. “I thought you wanted to see him play the most! Yui, do Fuwa Fuwa Time, see if he picks it up again!” she urged, bobbing up and down in her seat until Mio lightly chopped her on the head to steady her.

Uncertain, Yui turned her attention to Azusa. “What do you think, Azu-nyan?” Yui asked. “Do you want to hear more?”

Somewhat surprised that Yui had called on her, Azusa wasn’t sure what to do with herself. “Eh? Um, I don’t know. You want to win, don’t you?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Azusa looked like she regretted them, covering her mouth with her hand like it would have some sort of effect.

Yui tilted her head. “Win?” she echoed over Rin and Takumi’s exchanged look before a thought came to her.

_Win. Azu-nyan wants me to win. For the band? I don’t get it, Azu-nyan. I can’t just play better than your dad. All I can do is play like Yui. _

_You’re good enough. _

The thought shattered everything else that was going on in Yui’s mind, the source of the voice both her and not her. It was impossible and Yui didn’t like that. She preferred things to be as simple as possible. _Good enough. Azu-nyan is good enough. If she wants me to win, I have to be good enough now. I can pretend as long as you all want me to. We can be a band for a long time, if it means I can be selfish like this. _Once more, Yui started without so much as a countdown.

Fuwa Fuwa Time filled the living room, so familiar that Yui had no need to worry about missing a note or going off tempo, even when her thoughts remained distracted. Mr. Nakano listened carefully as Yui began to play, and when the younger guitarist started singing, he again joined in with the rhythm part. Slightly more prepared for this to happen this time, Yui trained all of her senses on the active guitarist in front of her. Sure enough, she was looking at Azusa, albeit a left-handed Azusa. There was no mistaking the aura that her kouhai gave off when she played. _Wait, that’s not quite right. She doesn’t sound like anything. I don’t understand. I never understand anything. Everyone is doing things and I don’t understand. Even you, Azu-nyan. I wanted to be honest with you and I messed that up. Mou, how am I supposed to explain why the band matters if I don’t even know what it sounds like?! _This frustration carried over into Yui’s performance, bringing it to an unceremonious end that was saved only by Mr. Nakano’s expert handling of the landing.

Conflicted as she was, the musician in Yui couldn’t pretend she what she’d just heard wasn’t impressive, meaning that only one question felt appropriate to ask when the music faded away. “How’d you get so good?” Yui pressed, disguising her lack of knowledge with admiration. “Are you the reason Azu-nyan plays so well?”

Embarrassed, Takumi played with a stray strand of his hair in a familiar manner. “I just practiced a lot in my youth. And I guess I’m pretty lucky when it comes to guitar. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t. Rin, make it make sense,” he ordered, pointing his guitar like a gatling gun at his wife.

Rin set down the tea she’d been holding on a coffee table. “It’s practice and muscle memory, nothing more, dear,” she responded like she’d had this conversation hundreds of times. “I was there too, you know.”

Takumi sighed nostalgically. “You certainly were.”

Realizing that her second question had been ignored, Yui decided to push the envelope a little. Anything that could let her smoothly finish this session was ideal. “So Azu-nyan must play with you all a lot then, right?” she presumed, looking to Azusa for confirmation.

Takumi’s visage darkened without warning. Azusa’s reaction told Yui that she’d made another mistake, one she’d definitely pay for the next time they were alone, but there was little time to think on that before Mr. Nakano answered her question. “It’s… been a while,” Takumi admitted. “But it’s nice to hear you think that way. Most of our guests just aren’t interested in music the way you all are. There’s been no good reason to break out the old axe, that’s all.” There was a doubly familiar lack of conviction in Takumi’s words that bothered Yui greatly.

_What am I doing? This is wrong. Parents are supposed to be around. That’s what Ui said. That should include playing with them when they can. I shouldn’t be up here trying to explain our band for everyone. Bands have to play together. _“That’s it!” Yui exclaimed, inspired. “If parents and children can play together, they should. And if bands can play together, they should. Everyone, play with us! Come play with me!” she implored, motioning everyone to stand up.

Silence met Yui’s sudden proposal. There was noticeable longing in Azusa’s eyes, but she was referring to her other senpais for cues on what to do next. Ritsu took the job of responding for everyone. “Excuse you? Is today say random dumb things and pretend it’s normal day? I don’t even have an instrument to play, you moron!” the drummer without drums protested, indicating her lack of a usable instrument in the room.

“It’s a wonderful idea, in my opinion,” Rin countered over Ritsu’s protests. “Of course, I have to prepare tea, so I won’t be able to join you, but I think you should do this, Azusa.” Once more, her suggestion came off as more of an order to Yui, and Azusa evidently felt the same way.

Varying amounts of conflict were brushed over Azusa’s features, the artist unable to decide on one single profile. Tsumugi raised a bandaged hand gingerly as Azusa continued to stew. “Well, I wish I could join you all, but I’m afraid my injury prevents that. I’ll have to settle for watching as well.”

“Then you can stick with me!” Rin cooed happily. “I could always use some company in the kitchen. I insist, join me, Kotobuki-san.”

Tsumugi could only nod respectfully as Rin practically dragged her away. The movement inspired Ritsu to stand as well, stretching. “Well, I guess I’ll catch up with you all in a bit. Nature calls, and I could use a tea refill.” As she made to leave, a hand tugging on her blazer stayed her retreat.

“Ritsu, wait! What about me?” Mio fretted, almost as uncertain as Azusa.

Ritsu raised an eyebrow. “What about you? You wanted to play with a lefty, right? No time like the present. Come on, you only have to play like one song before we have to leave anyways with how late it’s getting. Go get ‘em, tiger!” She gave her childhood friend a thumbs up before darting off against Mio’s outraged cries.

As Yui observed the display, somewhat amused, she nearly flew five feet in the air when she realized that Azusa had slunk up next to her, scaring her half to death in the process. “Senpai, this is a bad idea,” she whispered, her voice unusually vulnerable as she ignored the effect her entrance had. “We can’t play better than him or convince him. Let’s just let this go and-“

Yui’s response was to grip Azusa firmly by the shoulders. The kouhai started, but didn’t try to escape Yui’s hold. “Azu-nyan, we don’t have to play better than him. If we’re having fun, we win. If nothing else, trust me on this, okay?” Motioning towards Azusa’s father, Yui smiled at him. “Besides, Takumi-san really wants to play with us!”

A simple wave and an unreadable smile was Takumi’s answer to that claim. Azusa met the man’s eyes with undisguised resentment, some of her fire returning as she shook Yui’s grip off. “Yui-senpai, it’s complicated. I don’t trust him. He’s up to something,” she insisted without bothering to hide her open mistrust, her cheeks puffing up cutely.

Had she been alone, Yui might have chosen that time to pat Azusa on the head, but she’d at least learned something from Rin walking in on them. _Almost every decision I made just made Azu-nyan mad. But not this time. I know that I’m right this time. Even if these are the only feelings Azu-nyan and I share, they have to be real. Nobody can really hide when they play. I have to confirm that myself. _“I’m up to something too!” Yui proudly informed her kouhai. “So don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

In perhaps an expected turn of events, Azusa didn’t magically change her opinion on the situation, continuing to question her senpai with her stare. It was selfish, but Yui wanted to hear Azusa and her father play together. _It’ll probably be good for Azu-nyan, too. She’s not her father. I don’t love her father, so I guess that makes sense. That’d just be weird._

Without any further arguments to draw on, Azusa gave in, leaving the room to retrieve her instrument. Still in a bit of a daze, Mio followed her, cursing Ritsu all the way. The time between the two black-haired girl’s departure and their return was filled by silence, and within minutes, Mio and Azusa had joined the already prepared guitarists and were ready to play themselves. Rin hadn’t returned with the other members of the band, but Takumi insisted that they’d be back soon enough, and that it was fine to start without them. His daughter’s behavior hadn’t removed the smile from his face, even as Azusa made a point of standing closer to her senpais than her father. Mio suggested playing Fude Pen ~Boru Pen~, and without any objections, the haphazardly formed quartet began to play.

Energy exploded everywhere in the clubroom. Particles of light flew in every direction, colliding with each other and the walls in a chaotic dance that would have sent onlookers reeling as they tried to keep up with what just happened. Yui might have expected something strange from Takumi, but he was still patiently observing, waiting for a decent moment to come in. Looking to her left, Yui realized that it was Mio who had chosen to explode forward, her bass ringing out unusually sharply as she practically wrestled to take the leading sound role from the guitarists. Waves of Mio’s passion suffocated Yui and Azusa’s sound as Mio demanded their attention. Azusa didn’t react to this development and Yui didn’t have the luxury to wonder why, not when she needed to sing. When her voice kicked in, a murderous glare from Mio almost convinced her to stop, but Mio was harmonizing with her before she had the time to think about it. _What’s wrong with Mio-chan? Is she that upset? _Yui couldn’t fathom why the bassist was putting so much into her performance. It was only when Mio looked across the table for the third time that Yui got the message. _This performance isn’t for us. Look at them, not me._

Yui heard the message, but she didn’t immediately understand it. If Mio didn’t want to be seen, she shouldn’t be striking at the strings of her bass like they were Ritsu after she played a prank on Mio. She considered trying to push Mio’s position with her own playing, but the sound of a second rhythm guitar part kicking up stole her attention. Filing Mio’s problem away for the moment, Yui gave the two Azusas glaring at each other her full attention. That’s what it looked like to Yui, her and fellow shepherd Mio singing to lead two identical sheep along through their song, but clear differences became discernable as Yui looked harder. One Azusa was left-handed and playing the part like she’d been doing it her whole life. She only appeared to be looking at her counterpart with bemusement instead of anger. The right-handed Azusa was entirely focused on shutting out what her doppelganger was doing. Unlike Mio, who simply wanted to lead the piece, right-handed Azusa was looking to smother the sound in front of her and was failing to do so miserably. Whatever sound she attempted to drown out, left Azusa slipped under and pushed up, making right Azusa’s sound all the more pronounced. Takumi wasn’t shining, but he was making his daughter’s rhythm part look like the lead part, despite the fact that he shouldn’t know either part. Yui could see the real Azusa getting frustrated as her twin continued to mime her and improve her work through his playing. It was as both Azusas turned to Yui that the guitarist remembered she was supposed to be singing, and she picked up from Mio’s place just in time to avoid letting the song’s melody drop. Even with Mio’s shift in attitude, Yui could tell that she was still making a point to harmonize with her partners, unlike Azusa.

Observing was beginning to hurt Yui’s head, so she bade herself focus on the music to avoid making a mistake and buy her time to think of something to do. _That confirms it, I think. He’s copying her, but it’s not Azu-nyan. There’s something missing. Azu-nyan probably thinks so too. He’s making her mad. Does he know that? Can’t he see that copying her isn’t what she wants from him? Just play with her normally! _It was this crusading mentality that inspired Yui to take a small step forward, carried on the strong emotions the song was drawing from her, but a ghost of a smile on the real Azusa’s features gave her pause. _Huh? I don’t get it._ _Does she want this or not? Mou, Azu-nyan, I’m not smart. You know that, right? _It was at this point that Takumi decided that it was a brilliant time to start messing with the tempo of the song.

If there was one thing Yui felt she could take pride in from tonight, it was the reaction of all three girls to Takumi’s meddling. Without warning, Takumi began to mess with the tempo of the song, intentionally slowing down or speeding up just enough to cause a disturbance without completely shattering the song itself. The first time he did it caught everyone off guard, but with just an exchanged look, all three girls were prepared when Takumi decided to suddenly speed up. Though Azusa’s smile vanished and Mio’s roaring energy contained itself in favor of focusing, none of the three of them were tripped up by any of Takumi’s subsequent shifts in pace. Yui herself didn’t have much of a problem keeping up. Truthfully, it was mostly her and Ritsu’s fault the band had gotten used to such moody tempo swings. Still, this event only exacerbated the main issue. All three girls were now directly following left-handed Azusa’s lead, Azusa stuck chasing an eternal few paces after herself. Yui found herself stalling with Mio as she observed her host leading his daughter on some sort of self-reflective chase after himself. The vocals and lead guitar suddenly sounded much less interesting than what the two rhythm guitars were doing, as if the roles had been reversed. It hurt Yui, to see Azusa running after her father while the man remained just a step or two ahead of her. He left glowing footprints in the sand as he made the song his own, Azusa’s perfectly fitting shoes always just a few steps behind. It was as the song began to round off into its final chorus that Yui decided she’d had enough. _This is an exception. I told them I’d show them what HTT is. He has to understand what that means to Yui. If this was what Azu-nyan was worried about, then I have to be her senpai here. I’m good enough for this. _

Following the steps left by Takumi was simple for Yui. Erratic, unstructured changes in music were no different than the most tightly composed symphonies to someone who couldn’t tell the difference between them on paper. As Yui passed Azusa, she gave her kouhai a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Sorry, Azu-nyan. I’ll take care of this,” she promised her kouhai.

It was impossible to tell what Azusa said in response. All Yui could really do was focus on pursuing Takumi. Somewhere behind Yui, Mio and Azusa’s parts finally faded into nothing. Their auras were either too far away or gone completely as the song’s dying breaths seemed to last far too long. Eventually, all that was left was a left-handed Azusa and a trailing aura of carefree wonder that didn’t befit the girl who created its actions. Yui wasn’t even sure what she was playing anymore, if she was playing at all. All that mattered was that she didn’t let Azusa go. Of course, simply pursuing wouldn’t do her any good. She was supposed to be the lead guitarist of HTT. It was as Azusa burst into the clubroom that Yui seized control of the pace, bringing it to a meandering near-halt as she stared down the elusive image of her kouhai. “Why run?” Yui asked, finding her voice as she closed the door to the clubroom, indicating that she didn’t intend to let Takumi run away with the sound any longer. “Didn’t you want to hear us play?”

“I enjoy the chase,” Azusa responded, hurting Yui’s head as words Yui had heard from her kouhai were siphoned from her mind and emitted from the lips of the girl in front of her. It was hard enough keeping Takumi’s sound repressed to the rhythm section without her having to sort out who she was speaking to in her head. “You can tell that much after knowing me this long, can't you?”

Yui didn’t know that, but something told her not to say that. “Azu-nyan is better than I am,” Yui told Azusa. “She shouldn’t have to try this hard for your approval.”

“And I should try that hard for yours?” Azusa fired back, sitting down casually on the couch as her sound grew just a tad quieter. “I feel like I still need your approval. Have you or haven’t you given it to me?”

“Of course I have!” Yui insisted, desperation creeping into her sound as she took a pleading step forward towards Azusa’s flickering image, choking her fretboard as she grew desperate. “You practice harder than anyone else! You deserve more than anyone else! I told you you were good enough, didn’t I?” A cut appeared on Azusa’s arm, tearing her blazer without so much as a peep from the kouhai.

“Is that true, I wonder?” Azusa pondered, placing a finger to her chin as her injured arm’s sleeve began to darken in color. “Am I good enough? I tried for years to be good enough, but one mistake was all it took to ruin everything. Well, it wasn’t a mistake, rather a necessary change. Whether I’m better off now for it, I don’t know. All I know is that, for a girl like her, I could never be good enough.” Another cut appeared, tearing through Azusa’s sock and creating a nasty gash that almost ran up to her knee.

Yui felt white hot fury welling up within her. It was a unique sensation, one borne from a combination of her fatigue and her desire to do something right tonight that caused Yui to decide she’d had enough. It was one thing for Azusa to tell her no, it was another for her to tell her no because she didn’t feel like she could say yes. Getting in the face of the injured kouhai, Yui began to spit angry chords with her guitar. “Of course you are, damn it! I don’t understand much. I’m not an adult or mature, like you, but damn it, I love you, Azu-nyan!” A thin slit started to appear across Azusa’s chest, accompanied by multiple other small injuries. “I know who Azu-nyan is, better than you do! Azu-nyan is my serious kouhai who is always looking out for us! She’s the one who steps in to keep us on track, the one who completes our band with her rhythm sections. She’s the one who I can count on more than anyone else, who tries to count on me even though I keep messing everything up! I love Azu-nyan for who she is, no matter how she feels about me! We sound good because I love HTT!”

Yui’s diatribe was full of sputtered gasps of breath, sniffling, and general disorder, but a message was evidently delivered as the growing injury on Azusa’s chest became too much for the kouhai to bear. She gasped for nonexistent air as she doubled over, fighting to breathe while hiding the extent of her pain from her senpai. It took most of Yui’s willpower to remain standing as Azusa died in front of her. The scene was too impossible for her mind to accept it as real, limiting her reaction to a small step or two backwards. This allowed a firm hand to rest on her shoulder as fear fought to overcome her. Jolting around, Yui was met with Takumi’s somber face as he watch the vitality drain from his daughter. “So that’s who my daughter has become,” he mused, his guitar barely audible. “The Azusa I know was killed years ago, after all. You only got to know the person she became because of me.”

Dumbfounded, Yui watched in horror as Azusa managed to gasp one more time before falling deathly still. The urge to rush to her kouhai’s side was thwarted by some unknown force that kept her rooted in place. Takumi only adjusted his glasses as he moved to pick up the mangled corpse, carrying it with the reverence he’d shown for his guitars. “Well, she must be doing something right if she’d got people like you wanting to be around her. If you don’t mind, I’ll take this with me. Don’t worry about thinking too hard about this. In fact, please don’t. You don’t have to remember either. She doesn’t have to remember the past, so long as I remember for both of us.” Leaving a dark stain on the couch, Takumi left Yui alone in the Light Music Club as the world faded away and left her in a void, her voice calling out soundlessly for her friends.

When Yui opened her eyes, Mio and Azusa’s faces were strangely close to hers. The last five minutes were a bit of a blur, like she’d been awoken in the middle of a vivid dream. Azusa was in that dream, but she wasn’t at the same time, so Yui decided to focus on the Azusa she could see in front of her. As Azusa noticed Yui’s eyes open, she let out a visible sigh of relief. “Don’t scare me like that!” she warned her senpai. “I thought you were hurt. You practically passed out, and we’ve only been playing for a few minutes.”

Seeing Azusa scold her was exactly what Yui needed to ground herself in reality. Realizing that she’d somehow found her way to the ground, she used Azusa to pull herself into a sitting position. “It’s okay, Azu-nyan! I’m fine now, see? I’m just tired, ehehe.” She hugged her kouhai tightly, having forgotten about her position for the moment.

From Azusa’s expression, Yui could tell that she wasn’t yet trusted, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on that before Mio spoke up. “Perhaps that’s enough for now. You should rest, Yui-chan.” There was something behind Mio’s suggestion too, something implying she didn’t want to keep playing for another reason, but Yui couldn’t pick it out, nor did she want to.

Before Yui could agree, Azusa whirled on her father, dislodging herself from Yui and pointing at the man accusingly. “Apologize,” she demanded. “Apologize to my friends for that.”

Takumi raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, you got me. I wanted to know if you all were the real deal or not. You far exceeded my expectations, Yui-san. You could have dropped out much sooner, but you stuck with me almost as long as Rin normally does. I’m impressed.”

The apology didn’t placate Azusa, who jabbed a finger into her father’s chest aggressively. “I could have done that too!” she insisted defiantly. “Let’s go again! I can follow this time! Mio-senpai and I will show you how great our band is!”

Hearing the words brought a smile to Takumi’s face that only Yui felt she understood the real meaning of, but she wasn’t sure why. “If that’s what you really want, then we’ll find the chance to go another round soon, kiddo. Right now, we have guests.” He turned his attention to Yui and Mio. “With talent like that, I can see why you haven’t been thinking too hard about college. That doesn’t mean you’re right, but I acknowledge that you know your way around your strings. You’re an excellent guitarist, Yui-san. Mio-san, you’re rather talented in your own right. You both have my respect.” He bowed slightly to the seated seniors, eliciting a blush from them both.

Azusa’s mouth hit the ground as Yui played with her hands, unprepared for such sudden praise. She could feel her face heating up terribly as she struggled for the right sort of reply. “You were more than impressive too, Takumi-san,” Mio deflected. “I couldn’t keep up at all.”

That didn’t seem right to Yui, but her mind wasn’t clear enough to feel confident in disagreeing. Instead, she allowed Takumi to set his guitar down and throw Yui a knowing look. “Regardless, I won’t miss your next performance. This band and your relationship with my daughter are quite interesting. I’m glad she has people like you around her. ”

The word relationship caused Azusa to stumble backwards from her father, hands dropping to clench her skirt silently. Now didn’t feel like an appropriate time to mention Azusa’s date idea. Realizing what she needed to do, Yui stood up herself and moved to place a reassuring hand on Azusa’s head. “Don’t worry, Mr. Azu-nyan! Azu-nyan and I take great care of each other! We help each other out all the time!”

“Senpais aren’t supposed to need help from their kouhais,” Azusa muttered, stepping out of Yui’s grasp callously.

Takumi chuckled at the interaction. “I’ll be watching your career closely, Yui-san of Ho-kago Tea Time. Be good to my daughter, alright?” The way he asked came off as strange to Yui, but there was little time to puzzle over the matter before Mio stole her attention.

“That’s all well and good, but where’s the others? They should have been back a while ago, especially the bak- ahem, Ritsu,” Mio pointed out, folding her arms.

Yui glanced around. Indeed, Tsumugi, Ritsu, and Rin had failed to show themselves for any of the mysterious performance. “Maybe they got lost?” Yui suggested helpfully.

Rolling her eyes, Mio became the last to rise and started off towards the kitchen. “Let’s go find them. I need a drink.”

Yui was considering doing the same thing herself. _I need to clear my head. What happened during that song? Did I finally do something right? I should ask Azu-nyan later. But right now, I’m thirsty. And tired. And Azu-nyan is gone. _The last thought didn’t make much sense to Yui, but since she hadn’t heard Takumi say Azusa had to quit the band, she had to assume that she’d succeeded. This meant that everything else could wait, even the cry of pain that came from Mio at the living room entrance.

* * *

**November 19th, Azusa’s Room**

“Come on, come on, don’t let me down now, Nakano,” Ritsu muttered to herself, sending cat ears flying in all directions. “It has to be here somewhere.”

The drummer rifled through Azusa’s personal belongings with reckless abandon, enough cat ears to start an animal shelter scattered on the ground behind her. A small, annoying part of Ritsu felt bad for messing up the room that Azusa felt so proud of, and Ritsu was quick to tell it to shut up. _I don’t need to catch Nakano’s neurotic cleaning bug. Next thing I know I’ll be organizing Mio’s bookshelves. _The thought disgusted Ritsu enough to put twice as much vigor into flinging Azusa’s belongings everywhere.

Had she the luxury of time, Ritsu might have attempted a less risky approach, but there was only so much time one could claim to be in the bathroom before her actions would be scrutinized. _That baka will worry if I stay here too long, or worse, she’ll figure out what I’m doing. Hell, if Takumi hadn’t distracted her with his left hand, I’d be screwed. _That blessing in mind, Ritsu continued until she reached the bottom of the drawer without hitting her target.

Resisting the temptation to pound her fist on something, Ritsu transferred her energy into movement. Even if she couldn’t find what she was looking for, she couldn’t let anyone know she’d been looking in the first place. With just a few rapid trips, the cat ears were recklessly restored to their original resting place. Looking for a new place to search, Ritsu’s eyes rested on the trash can. “You said you didn’t throw gifts away, Nakano. You better not be lying.” Lacking a better plan, Ritsu decided to sift through the drawers of Azusa’s desk.

Nothing but junk greeted Ritsu’s eyes. She vaguely recognized some of the trinkets she dug up as products Azusa had mentioned buying online for her guitar. The amount of plastic covering most of them told Ritsu all she needed to know about how effective those purchases were. A wry smile found her as she continued to dig. “Yeesh. Cut back on the online shopping, kid. Maybe organize your drawers while you’re at it.” The insult to her host was left unanswered as Ritsu slammed one of the drawers shut in frustration.

The action caused the pictures on Azusa’s wall to flutter up and down slightly. Ritsu turned her irritated glare to the smiling faces of her friends. She wanted to stay mad, but she couldn’t, and that was a problem. “I shouldn’t be here. Stupid Sawa-chan. Stupid dinner. Stupid Mugi, stupid Mio, stupid everyone,” she ranted to herself, opening and closing a drawer with each stupid. “Nobody in this club has the brains to see the writing on the wall. Even the kid’s parents see it. Stupid idiots.”

Crass insults were rather ineffective on inanimate objects, and Ritsu eventually gave up, leaning on the desk in defeat. Originally, she had only come back to tell the club exactly what she thought and then let them figure it out on their own, maybe with a small apology thrown in given time. With that, everyone was supposed to accept the truth and let them move forward together until March. After Azusa went and spilled her guts to everyone, however, Ritsu couldn’t exactly come out and shoot the kouhai down, meaning everything had to be normal today. It sat like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach, but Ritsu wasn’t about to get someone hurt again. She knew when to exercise at least a bit of restraint, despite what some bassists would say. In any case, the direct approach was no longer feasible, so the plan had to be altered slightly and Ritsu had business in Azusa’s room. Rooting around in the drawers had proven to be a fruitless endeavor, so desperation called her to look around the room for something she missed. There was certainly nothing resembling her gift on the desk, but some sheet music caught her attention. With a bit of paper sorting, Ritsu was eyeing the sheet music for the rhythm parts for all of HTT’s songs, originally in a neat pile on Azusa’s desk. The drummer smirked. “Figures. Even professionals aren’t that good. You should watch where you keep your stuff, Nakano.”

Running out of time, Ritsu gave up and tore into the trashcan, sending crumpled papers everywhere as she continued her relentless hunt. This too ended in failure, but it was as she was scurrying to return the trash to its rightful place that another paper caught Ritsu’s eye. She uncrumpled it enough to read it and quickly recrumpled it, struggling not to vomit for real at how sweet the words were. _Guess Sawa-chan wasn’t blowing hot air about those letters. God, Nakano, you really feel like that? What the hell do I do about something like that? _Whatever the right answer to addressing Azusa’s borderline criminal writing ability, the only one Ritsu could give at the moment was to ignore it.

Seconds away from giving up, Ritsu’s hopes were cruelly reignited as she happened to notice the drawer attached to the nightstand on the other side of the room. She had initially ignored it for the sake of Azusa’s privacy, but desperation drove her forward. Slinging the drawer open, Ritsu’s legs gave way as she fell to her knees, observing the lone occupant of the drawer, her joy buzzer. Resisting tearing up out of pure joy, Ritsu reclaimed her gift. “Sorry, kid, but these are harder to come by than you’d think,” the drummer apologized to someone who wasn’t there. “I’ll get it back to you, probably. Just remind me later.”

In response, Fude Pen ~Boro Pen~ started to kick up underneath Ritsu, meaning nobody was questioning her absence yet. Smirking to herself as she ensured the room was left in an innocuous condition, Ritsu decided to make for the kitchen to give herself more of an excuse for her absence. At the least, she could claim she got distracted by Tsumugi and Rin to avoid Mio’s painful fists. Slipping down the stairs and past the living room without even a glance, Ritsu made for the kitchen. With her task accomplished, she was able to notice just how strange the house felt as she walked. Aside from the living room and the kitchen, no lights were on, a fact that only became more apparent as the sun finished going down. During the tour, Ritsu felt like she was being shown around by a real estate agent rather than her friend, like Azusa was just as familiar with the house as she was. Ideas for scaring Mio danced within Ritsu’s mind, but she shoved them away for the moment. Knowing when to not scare Mio was almost as important as knowing when to scare Mio. Reaching the kitchen, Ritsu was about to boldly announce her intrusion when her host’s words stopped her dead in the doorway. “Don’t you dare try to go anywhere near my daughter with your business, you hear me?” came Rin’s accusatory finger, pointing towards a completely calm Tsumugi.

Before either woman could see her, Ritsu practically dived to get behind the doorframe, her unfortunately conspicuous forehead poking out as she took in what had been happening while she was gone. “Your trepidation is understandable,” Tsumugi admitted, holding a cup of tea in her good hand. “But that part of my life is separate from my life at high school and with HTT. I have gone to great lengths to ensure that that is the case.” For a moment, Ritsu mistook Tsumugi for someone much older than she was.

It was difficult for Ritsu to remember sometimes that Tsumugi was loaded. Sure, she behaved oddly occasionally, but that was par for the course in their band. Wealth hadn’t ever really been a factor in Ritsu’s mind unless it was her own that was concerned. “It’s not just that,” Rin insisted. “You saw what happened just now. Azusa won’t be accepting handouts, least of all from people like you. The world is unfair and cruel. You wouldn’t understand this, so I’m telling you now not to interfere with them. Whatever the band decides to do has to be brought about by them alone, not your financial backing.”

Tsumugi clenched and unclenched her fists, hiding a wince over the action. “Mrs. Nakano, I would never jeopardize the band with that side of my life. My only real desire is to continue to make music with them.”

Rin sighed, swirling her tea in her cup idly. “Even if that’s true, I can’t imagine you’ll be able to avoid your so-called destiny forever. I’ve done my homework on you and your friends, Kotobuki-san. The others may have college decisions to make, my Azusa especially, but I’m assuming your life has been picked out for you already, hasn’t it? How much of what you said had anything to do with what you wanted?” she wondered aloud, ignoring Tsumugi’s reaction. “How does HTT factor into running your father’s conglomerate? You surely can’t keep both of them up forever, can you?”

“I will do what I can,” Tsumugi responded, somewhat uncertainly. “As long as I can, I will not allow our band to separate. A successful life isn’t defined by the amount of yen one has. They made me realize that.”

Rin scoffed. “That’s easy to say when you’re looking down from the top of the mountain. Your types are all the same. Takumi and I had to give up everything we cared about just to give Azusa a shot at the future she deserves. Even if she hates us, we’re going to make damn sure she’s happy hating us and not stuck under the heel of people like you. You kids couldn’t possibly understand that kind of feeling, and you never will. Ten years from now, you won’t even remember my daughter’s face as your world remains putridly perfect, but I’ll never forget. When she uses us as a steppingstone on the path to success, I’ll remember for the both of us.”

Tsumugi’s fists clenched. “Don’t claim to know everything about me just because you’re away of my family and their history. HTT is more important to me than anything else. Do you know how empty large homes can feel? I do. If you want your daughter’s life to be a success, then be there for her and stop worrying about your bank account. She’s told us herself that she wants to continue to play with us, that it’s what’s really important to her. She doesn’t trust you. You know that, right? If you really love her, why haven’t you shown her that? If I was your daughter, I’d want to know that I was loved and acknowledged by my family. Without that, I… no title would mean anything. Happiness would be hollow.” Seeing Tsumugi’s shoulders sag bothered Ritsu, but not enough to act just yet.

Rin only shook her head. “You’re a child. It’s not your fault, but it’s the truth. Azusa figured out how things work years ago. It’s because we love her that we keep our distance. She plays guitar because we love her and want her to be happy, and while we let her enjoy the things she enjoys, we have to put pressure on her to ensure she doesn’t make the same mistakes that we made. Is it not the same with you and your playing?” Rin pressed, taking a small step forward.

Tsumugi placed her tea down. “I had the wrong idea about my friends for a long time. Even now, I wonder if my viewpoint is still jaded by my upbringing. As you said, we live in different worlds. That’s part of the reason HTT matters so much to me. Their world and mine both have this band in it, a link if you will. Despite whom I was and who they are, they decided to foster that link with me, and it means everything to me now. No matter what happens to the band, I won’t let them drift away. Even if they don’t want me around, I’ll always hold out my hand for them. I wish I could make that clear to them.”

Somewhat surprisingly, Rin took a step back, her own expression becoming contemplative. “You don’t seem like a bad kid.” Both Ritsu and Tsumugi waited for Rin to go on, but she chose to take a long sip of tea instead, her conversation hanging perilously in the balance as she sat idle.

The scene in the kitchen was way above Ritsu’s head. Without context for how it started, she had no idea who started this and why, let alone an idea of what to do about it. In her contemplation about what to do next and to get a better look, Ritsu accidentally leaned too far forward and ended up tripping over herself. With no small amount of luck, the drummer managed to catch herself and make her entrance look semi-natural as she leaned on the doorway. Both Rin and Tsumugi gave Ritsu puzzled looks as she hid her actions behind a smile. “Ah, Mugi, Mrs. Nakano, right, I almost forgot you two were in here. Don’t mind me, I just came to get some tea. I’m not here, don’t mind me.”

There was nothing in Rin’s expression for a moment, then her corny host smile came back. “Ah, of course. I can hear the others playing too, so they must be thirsty. Forgive me if I’ve been too forward with you, Tsumugi-san. I merely want you to understand where we’re coming from.” The conversation might as well have never happened for how Rin reacted.

Tsumugi’s expression was equally unreadable. She stared at her bandaged hand. “I think I do,” she muttered to herself. “And I hope Azusa-chan does too.”

The statement triggered a reaction from Rin, but she didn’t let Ritsu see exactly what it was. As the mother retrieved tea for Ritsu and brushed by Tsumugi’s comment, Ritsu’s mind started to process what she’d seen. _A different world… Mugi just wants the band to be together. How can she of all people not see the writing on the wall? Maybe… maybe that’s why she’s trying so much harder than everyone else. And messing it up, to boot. Have I been going about this the wrong way? No. Helping is good for all of them. That damn teacher was right about one thing: I have to put this fire out before I do anything else, and Mugi’s not gonna do it. Mio won’t do it, and Yui might as well be the fire to Nakano’s smoke. I’ll show them who the cowards are. They’ll see that this is best for everyone soon. They won’t need me soon, and that’s okay. That’s normal. _“Ah, Ricchan?” Tsumugi asked, uncertain.

Ritsu turned towards the keyboardist. Whatever bravado she’d put on was gone. Ritsu was definitely looking at a high school girl again. “T-thanks. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I’m glad you stepped in.”

Realizing that Tsumugi thought Ritsu had chosen to interrupt at the time she did, the drummer shrugged, rolling with the development. “Don’t worry about it. We’re a band and all that other crap. But you owe me a favor now. Be ready when I collect on that, okay?” she warned her friend, nudging her semi-playfully. _In other words, I’m not done with you yet, heiress._

Tsumugi nodded too enthusiastically for someone who had just been technically threatened. Ritsu would have spent more time wondering about that had she not noticed the lack of sound coming from the living room. “Are they done already?” Ritsu mused, turning her attention towards the door.

Now holding two cups of tea, Rin handed one of them to Ritsu with a disgruntled sigh. “There’s a reason we don’t let him play with guests,” was all she said, rather ominously.

That warning in mind, Ritsu and Tsumugi exchanged a worried glance before making their way back to the living room, Rin close behind with less urgency. It occurred to Ritsu how odd it was that she’d slipped so easily back into her familiar dynamic with Tsumugi despite the fact that she was supposed to be mad at the heiress. Had she time to herself, she might have bothered to think about how her overall plan was being affected, but the current moment only allowed her to lead the way to the rest of her friends. When the trio reached the living room, they were met with Mio trying to exit the room, bumping heads with Ritsu. Startled, Mio yelped and stumbled backwards, her cry of pain triggering Ritsu’s default teasing state. “Done already, Mio-chan? I didn’t think you were lazy enough to quit that easily,” she taunted, holding out her teacup invitingly.

Huffing, Mio snatched the teacup from Ritsu’s hands. “You’re one to talk, baka,” she muttered, none of her usual bite to be found in her tone. “That was some bathroom trip you made.”

“Hey, I got lost, and then I got thirsty!” Ritsu protested, swiping Tsumugi’s cup and downing it in one gulp over the heiress’ whine to prove her point.

It was tempting to continue to prod Mio for a more direct response, but Takumi had other ideas. “Well Rin, I’m happy to say our daughter has found a rather talented band to play with,” he announced, giving Yui a thumbs up that the girl blushed furiously at. “Azusa is in good hands for the moment.”

“Is that so?” Rin asked, shooting a sidelong glance to Tsumugi that was ignored. “That’s simply wonderful. I’m sorry I missed your performance. Does anyone else need tea?”

“Actually, I’m terribly sorry, but it’s getting late, so I should be off before the last trains run,” Tsumugi interrupted, raising a hand. “Really, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t want to make anyone have to track me down.”

Mio jumped on Tsumugi’s declaration before anyone else could. “I should probably get home too, then,” she told everyone. “Mrs. Nakano, Takumi-san, it’s been wonderful. Your house was spectacular. I’d love to play with you again sometime, Takumi-san.”

Appearing to be somewhat caught off guard by the sudden departure, Takumi waved off Mio’s request. “O-oh, of course!” he agreed. “Now that you mentioned it, it is getting a bit dark. Do any of you need rides home?”

“Nope!” Yui chirped up. “We all live nearby except Mugi-chan, right?”

Nods surrounded the room. Azusa appeared conflicted as Ritsu looked to her kouhai, but when she caught the younger girl’s eye, she looked away. _Was this good enough? I tried to make us look okay at least, minus the stuff that wasn’t okay. There was definitely a positive ratio of okay to not okay. Your parents aren’t horrible people, Nakano, I think. They’re just people. _None of that message reached Azusa as Ritsu attempted to convey it with her eyes, that talent apparently reserved for Mio.

This feeling of missing something stuck annoyingly with Ritsu as she left the Nakano household behind and walked home, first with all four seniors, then without Tsumugi, then with just Mio. The terribly uneasy notion that a critical task had been left uncompleted pervaded her thoughts and actions and blotted out reality around her. She probably had a normal conversation with Mio, but none of it was in her head when she opened her own front door. Her home was silent, nobody awake to greet her. That was normal, expected. Taking care not to disturb her sleeping family, Ritsu made her way to her room, flopping onto her bed. She wanted to sleep, but she could tell her mind wouldn’t grant that wish until she took care of a few things. Whipping out her phone, she sent a text first to Mio, then to Azusa. Azusa almost immediately responded with a tone that could clearly be called exasperation, even in text form, but an affirmative. Mio took longer to respond, but she affirmed things as well. Ritsu’s last text was to Yui, and it didn’t receive a response. That was normal too, and there was nothing wrong with that.


	20. Winter!

Petite, feeble hands tugged incessantly at the frayed edges of a man’s wool peacoat. A storm of overbearing white stewed maliciously above as a daughter continued to pester her father on a street corner below, pleading with her entire being that he grant her an audience with him. The man truthfully wanted nothing more than to get back to his wife and kotatsu as soon as humanely possible, but to let his temperament become colder than the weather was unacceptable for any sort of reason. He adjusted the bag of confections nestled in one of his stout arms to avoid crushing them, a mistake that would cost them another trip through the merciless cold should he make it. Slackening their pace as the pair approached their crosswalk, the man’s upper body twisted to acknowledge his daughter. The pout on his daughter’s face told him exactly how this conversation was going to go. It was the face her mother had gifted her, one no power on Heaven or Earth could resist being compelled by, and one the man sometimes wished had come with a receipt he could cash in. Though he supposed he should count himself among the lucky ones for having such a wonderful family, it didn’t change the fact that he would be forever outnumbered when it came to voting on family activities. “Do you think this will be the year?” the girl probed aggressively, pulling so insistently that a new string in the coat came undone. “Oh, sorry.”

The rapid transition from bold curiosity to startled remorse amused the man. It was the same question she’d been asking since they’d left the store and the entire trip there before that, red and green lights guiding them back to their humble shack amidst the snowy concrete jungle. Said glowing bulbs provided no protection from the bits of sparkling crystalized water collecting in the pigtailed girl’s hair, but they let the man admire the innocent face he had been raising in a unique light. “Mm, perhaps. Have you been a good girl?” The question was followed with a teasing look towards a conspicuously damaged coat.

The two of them finally stalled and stopped at the streetlight they’d been approaching as panic started to absorb the daughter’s features. Despite this, she still nodded for everything she was worth, small pigtails flopping to and fro as she affirmed her sincerity with her violent headbanging. “I did my best!” she insisted, holding up 3 shivering fingers. “I’ve been practicing stretches every day, I watched you and mommy a ton, and I even made space in my room for it!” Chuffed with herself, the girl puffed out her tiny chest and gave her father a toothy smile.

The man’s muddy brown eyes were briefly obscured by his own breath as he sighed. “It sounds more like you’ve just been preparing to receive your gift without actually trying to be good for it. That’s not how Christmas works, you know. Santa only visits good girls who do their homework and finish their lunch,” he gently reminded her, eyeing the lethargic streetlight in irritation as his body temperature dropped.

As a reward for being right, the man won a crying daughter, complete with runny nose and shattered hopes. “B-but I was really good last year, and Santa didn’t come!” she blubbered, gripping his coat even more fiercely. “What if he didn’t come because he didn’t think I could handle it? I have to be prepared this time! I’m not going to let him have an excuse to leave me behind!” She stamped her foot into the snow, slightly amusing the man as her misjudgment of the depth of the snowfall caused the child to stumble forward into his sturdy leg.

By the time she recovered at the expense of another strand of the man’s coat coming loose, it was becoming obvious to him that his daughter wouldn’t be making it home if she was forced to go on foot. Adjusting the lapel of his coat in preparation, the man kneeled down, offering his daughter his arm. Without hesitation, she accepted his invitation, practically leaping into his outstretched arm. Suppressing a grunt for the effort required, the man lifted his daughter up with his grocery bag, one piece of precious cargo secured cozily under each arm. It had been a while, but it still startled the man how large his baby had grown. The idea that the time he couldn’t carry her in one arm any longer was sooner rather than later was shoved aside. There was no need for such dour thoughts at this time of year. The girl wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, fortunately avoiding choking him as she let her chin rest on her father’s shoulder with a content smile. Her heartbeat warmed him as he adjusted his grip with subtlety that couldn’t be taught to keep her comfortable. “Well, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see if I can put in a good word with the big man. Just, ah, don’t expect much more than what you asked for. Guitars are like extra limbs to a guitarist. If Santa brings you one, you have to treat it like that, alright? There won’t be any do overs.”

Already starting to drift off, the man felt his daughter nod, her silky hair ticking the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, daddy. I won’t let anything happen to it, ever,” she promised with delirious confidence. “I love you, Santa.”

The way she clutched at his back in a hug with that sentence drew out the first genuine concern the man had felt during their interaction. Had she figured out the truth at such an early age already? Was she just confusing her words? It had been complicated enough for the musician to find an instrument that suited his daughter. Having to worry now that all his plans of pomp and circumstance had already been keenly seen through sobered his enthusiasm. The soft rise and fall of his daughter’s chest was what convinced the man to relax. He supposed that the answer to that question was unimportant as his daughter’s breathing slowed to indicate she had entrusted the burden of travel to him. Taking care not to jostle his passenger as the crosswalk finally allowed him safe passage, the man braved the winter evening to return to the Nakano household, already picturing the light in his life brightening when she saw her new guitar the next morning. If she knew, then the only solution was to make sure that the music they made together tomorrow was the only thing worth remembering.

* * *

**November 20th, A Local Burger Joint**

The familiar father daughter duo crossed the street as the only girl who could see them observed from her seat by the second-floor window. Azusa despised that memory, a sentiment that remained firmly unchanged as she idly pictured it playing out in front of her on a road she’d never see again. _It’s just another lie they discarded when they didn’t need it anymore. There aren’t any roads like that in this town. I checked._

Watching the actual passerby wasn’t a suitable pastime for the kouhai, nor was consuming the french fry dangling limply in her hand. After the party, she’d gone to sleep to avoid having to think too hard about what had happened; now she felt like she’d yet to wake up. Her father’s only reaction since her friends left was a half-hearted smile and an empty promise that they’d play together again some time. Granted, he only said that because of how hard his daughter had pushed her to play with him, said daughter too caught up in the moment to entertain the idea that her actions had consequences. Her mother had simply told her that her club seemed interesting, followed by an order to get rid of her cat ears that Azusa delegated to her future self. If traipsing around her silent home hadn’t felt awkward enough on weekends, doing it while her parents were present was an impossible pop quiz on mental fortitude that Azusa wasn’t prepared to take. This and her stubborn feeling of grogginess prompted her to flee her home before she accidently did something she’d regret. _Too many things went wrong for mother and father to let the band off so easily. Yet they must have accomplished something, because they didn’t tell me not to leave the house. Father hasn’t ever touched that guitar before, so why now? What’s more, I wanted to hear him keep playing. Have I been suppressing that desire? Of course I have. Mou, I even mistook whatever the hell Yui was doing for his playing for a moment. _A rueful smile found its way onto Azusa’s expression as she looked down on the her of yesterday, lasting only a brief moment before she returned to a listless neutral as the father and daughter duo disappeared from her vision. _At least the me from back then knew what she wanted. Wanting a guitar makes more sense than wanting to be in a band. Right, the band. They should be my priority. I should just accept what happened for what it is. They didn’t indicate that they hate my band and they haven’t told me to quit. That was the only objective I needed to achieve. It doesn’t matter if my senpais like my parents or not. I can’t assume they’d understand after only seeing that side of them. _The thought brought envy for her senpais to Azusa’s mind, manifesting in the clenching of her hand and the crushing of the unfortunate french fry resting in it.

Realizing what she was doing, Azusa shoved the suffocated side in her mouth and absentmindedly reached for a replacement. Her free hand supported her chin as she continued to stare out the window, brooding. Since she’d arrived at the fast food joint it had started snowing again, but Azusa could still see the scene from her memory outside the window as clearly as if it was actually happening. _It’d be easier if I didn’t still care. Why should I care what those people do? They’re the ones who told me not to care, to use them even as they use me. That’s how a good Nakano finds success, right? Use people and claim a stable future, trust nobody. It’s not about what you find fun, Yui. If you don’t pay attention and make plans, the world will swallow you. That’s what I was taught. Don’t get emotional. Why of all things does this have to be the order I can’t listen to? I went and got involved with a band I never want to let go. I haven’t grown up at all. I’ve done nothing to confront reality up to this point. _Azusa raised her free hand to her mouth, but found that she wasn’t holding anything.

Slightly perturbed by her mistake, Azusa retrieved another french fry, letting it sag limply between her fingers for a moment as she returned to her thoughts. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she got the feeling that she was supposed to be doing something. Perhaps she had meant to contact one of her senpais, or rather she might have homework to attend to back home. Whatever the issue was, Azusa’s father’s oppressive performance still rang dully in her pink ears, drowning any attempt at rational thought out. Azusa took a long sip of her beverage to cool herself down as her moodiness started to shift to frustration. _He still shines. He’s too bright, like the sun. It’s a lie, too. It’s not like he’s trying to show off, he just happens to be nearby. Yui shines too, but she’s a star. She’s so far away. I thought I might get a bit closer if I played with her, that I’d be able to close some of the distance between us, but I can’t reach either of them. I don’t want to reach father. I don’t need to reach Yui, do I? I don’t need to take her hand, because that’s not how I feel. This love is for HTT, not just Yui. I’ll have to find a way to explain that to her soon. We have our careers to think of. Nothing should be distracting me from that. Their behavior last night comes down to the circumstances. I will not worry them anymore. I’m going to do my best to be helpful. I’ll focus on what I can see, like reprimanding everyone tomorrow for acting like morons._

Looking out the window, Azusa’s gaze lingered on a still humanoid figure idling on the sidewalk. Interested in the odd lollygagging behavior, Azusa leaned in a little just as the figure looked up, revealing a smiling Yui Hirasawa. Startled, Azusa sat up in her seat, nearly leaving it as she tried to confirm what she was seeing. Yui smiled and waved at her, jocund in spite of the biting cold. Confused, Azusa reached out a hand like they could make contact, unsure of what she was seeing. As she tentatively reached out to it, the person on the sidewalk below her warped, taking the form of Mio, then Ritsu, then Tsumugi, then finally her father. Azusa recoiled, nearly bumping into the seat next to her. “Azusa-chan? What’s wrong? See someone you know?” Ui’s concerned voice questioned from behind Azusa’s back.

Having completely forgotten she was with company, Azusa turned back to Ui and bowed slightly in her seat. “Oh, sorry, it’s nothing. I’m just being dumb, got a lot on my mind, that sort of thing. Everything is fine. I don’t mean to worry you, I’m just spacing out,” Azusa apologized excessively.

The nagging voice in the back of Azusa’s mind was suddenly much louder. It yelled at her that she was supposed to be having lunch with her friends, something they’d agreed to do days ago. Indeed, she’d set this outing up as a sort of apology for her distance since the cultural festival, which meant that her current behavior was defeating the entire purpose of her presence there at the moment. “I’ve been able to successfully steal like five fries from your hand,” Jun pointed out from the other side of the table, indicating five french fries laid out like hunting trophies. “I’d say you’re a little more than just distracted. You didn’t even answer when I said your name like four times. Trying to think of how to cover our meal because you’re broke?” she guessed, as she crossed her arms in a pout and ate one of her trophies to feel better about herself.

Somewhat mortified at her lapse in attention, Azusa shook herself. She’d been daydreaming for far too long. Rapidly, she compelled herself to think about tangible facts, snippets of information she could latch onto to draw herself back into the present moment. _Right. Lunch. I came here with Jun-chan and Ui-chan. Jun-chan was underdressed for the weather. Ui-chan shared her scarf with her. Yui gave Ui-chan that scarf as a Christmas present. Wait, too detailed. Back up. _Taking a deep breath as Jun looked on, somewhat bemused, Azusa attempted to salvage the lunch she’d been derailing. “Ah, sorry, Jun-chan. It’s rude of me to invite you both out to lunch and then act like this. What did you need?” she asked, trying to make up for her inconsiderate fantasizing.

A devious smirk reminded Azusa why she promised herself to never owe Jun any favors. The bassist was doing her best impersonation of Ritsu as she mused over her potential demands, an identical aura of mischief to the drummer emitting from her. Letting the smell of fried food distract her mind from whatever Jun was about to do, Azusa turned her attention to actually making a dent in the pile of french fries she’d made with her friends in the center of the table. Like with Ritsu, it was best just to let Jun play her idea out rather than cut her off and turn her inane yet innocuous request into something more sinister. _It’s the same reason I can’t exactly go charging into Ritsu-senpai’s house to go get that joy buzzer back. I’ll just have to wait for her to come to me with it so I can throw it away for good. _“Well, why don’t you start by joining the discussion, Azusa-chan?” Jun decided in an obnoxious sing-song tone. “It concerns all of us, after all.”

Glancing over to Ui for clarification, the younger sister nodded. “We were talking about finding new members for the Light Music Club after this year. We’ll be disbanded if it’s just the three of us, after all, since you need four members to be a club.” It occurred to Azusa that Ui’s burger was gone, meaning she’d been slacking on her eating duties.

Before responding, Azusa made a point of taking a bite of her food like a normal person. Jun filled the gap in conversation with a snort, amused with herself. “Why don’t we just pay some people off? Tell them to pretend to be in the club and then quit after club recruiting season passes. Your advisor won’t rat us out, will she?” she wondered aloud.

Considering the idea, Azusa shrugged. “I doubt it. She wouldn’t do that unless she had a good reason to. Sawako-sensei enjoys lounging around in the clubroom too much. We could also just bribe her with food.” Jun’s raised eyebrow caused Azusa to panic and change course. “A-and besides, as it stands, we’re only two guitarists and a bassist. At the least, it’d be preferable to find a drummer to give our sound something to ground itself.”

The obvious predicament was evidently of little concern to the bassist. “Eh, maybe we’ll get lucky and your drummer will repeat a year,” she pointed out, sipping her drink. “Even better, if Yui fails, we’ll have three guitarists!”

“What would we do with three guitarists and no drummer?!” Azusa berated, giving Jun a chop on the head while pushing the frighteningly real possibility of her senpais failing out of her head.

“I won’t let Onee-chan repeat a year, though the thought admittedly crossed my mind,” Ui chimed in, picking out a french fry with unnecessary reverence. “I will make sure she passes her entrance exams and goes to college.”

Jun threw her hands in the air melodramatically while simultaneously slumping in her seat. “Put some of that devotion into our band next year and we’ll be freaking overnight superstars,” she complained. “Have you got your own guitar yet, Ui?” the bassist chose to press, swinging the conversation painfully unnaturally into another topic.

“No, not yet,” Ui admitted, blushing lightly. “To be honest, I’ve been saving up money for a while, but I probably won’t be able to get one of my own until next year. But don’t worry, Onee-chan lends me Giita now and then, so I have the basics down.” It was a bit difficult for Azusa to picture Yui relinquishing her precious instrument to anyone, but Ui would probably be one of the few people who could convince Yui to do something she didn’t want to do. _Am I one of those people too? _

As conversation was steered into what kind of guitar Ui should buy, Azusa pawed through the pile of french fries she’d created, searching for one that looked appetizing. Truthfully, she wasn’t a big fan of the food at this burger place, but it had been Jun’s call, not hers, and it just happened to be roughly equidistant from their houses. It was a strange move in retrospect, promising to treat Jun after how combative she’d been acting all month, but Azusa knew that she owed her more reckless friend after the trouble she and Ui had caused for her with all their rumor crusading. As she took a french fry out of the pile they’d made together, she returned to looking out the window listlessly. The soft snowfall continued without care for the girl watching, landing on puffy jackets and exposed noses alike as commuters fought a losing battle with nature. It was a nice distraction, and Azusa felt grateful that Jun had at least chosen a place with a pleasant view. From the second floor, she could almost pretend that the snow couldn’t affect her. Of course, the shed jackets of her and her friends spoke otherwise. _Watching. That’s all I’m doing. My problems are my own. Nobody in here or out there is going to help me solve my own future, nor could they if they wanted to. Jun-chan and Ui-chan have their own lives to worry about. I’m the only one who made the decision to open this door to HTT. I’ve no right to complain about every little problem cropping up in the wake of that. I’ve chosen to make HTT a success, so that’s what I should be focusing on. _Even as the plans for such a goal attempted to formulate in her mind, Azusa was forced to discard each one the second they even came close to trying to figure out how to deal with Yui Hirasawa. _I can’t get around it. I asked her out, sort of. No, I asked her out. Why did I do that? Because I need to determine how I feel. How do I feel? I love my friends and HTT. What’s the difference between that sort of thing and romance? If anything, I should like Yui the least. She’s slow in so many aspects and lazy in so many others. She’s like a turtle. No, at least Ton-chan doesn’t cry out in agony when he isn’t fed every half hour. She’s the one I have to take care of the most, keep on track, teach everything, work the closest with, look up to… No, damn it, focus! Ignore the biological signs and focus on the root of the issue! You have to put this to bed if you’re going to think with a clear head. There’s too many other issues that demand your attention. _No admonishment Azusa could deliver herself could prevent Azusa’s senpai from clouding her thoughts, cutting synapses and scrambling connections she tried to make with reckless abandon.

Feeling defeated, Azusa allowed her head to fall backwards against her chair, staring at the too-bright ceiling instead of her partially eaten meal. Somewhere in front of her, Jun sighed dramatically. “Oh come on, that’s just pathetic. Are we that boring to you? Sorry I’m not your girlfriend,” the querulous bassist pouted, crossing her arms.

Sitting up straight, both Azusa and Ui glared at Jun. Azusa’s concern about being rude was erased in less than a second. “It’s not like that,” Azusa growled, empathetic nodding from Ui backing her up as the guitarist relaxed a little. “Between trying to figure out what mother and father are up to and the band’s problems, I have a lot to think about. I’m sorry if I’m a little stressed out, but your weird comments aren’t helping, Jun-chan.”

The explanation drew a befuddled look out of Ui and intrigue from Jun. Jun’s brown balls of messy hair bounced as she leaned forward assertively towards the guitarist. “Oh? I was gonna bring it up naturally and sound really cool after spending all afternoon lulling you into a state of complacency, but since you won’t play the game with me, I’ll be blunt: was yesterday’s dinner that interesting? According to Ui, Yui said it went really well. Do we have a counter claim?” With every word, the bassist leaned in a little closer, holding a french fry out like a microphone to her witness.

Narrowing her eyes at Jun, Azusa shook her head, eating the offering like that was what Jun intended to do in the first place. “Mother and father didn’t say I had to quit the club, which is all that matters for now. It didn’t go as well as I’d have liked, but this was probably more than I could reasonably ask for. I should be focusing on what comes next, which means figuring out what their real objective was.”

Without a weapon, Jun was forced to slink backwards in her seat. She went fishing for a replacement as she eyed Azusa carefully. “Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to deal with mopey Azusa and paranoid Ui for another three weeks. If you don’t do something to settle things with your band soon, I’ll do it for you, though I don’t think you’ll like how I do it. It could be funny though. Hm, maybe I should just do it anyways. Ui, thoughts?”

Outside of Azusa’s awareness, Ui had visibly stiffened by the time Jun directed conversation back to her. Despite this, her face was still a polite mask, albeit one that was currently judging Jun with its eyes. “Jun-chan, that’s rude. The matter is very close to, if not already settled. As she said, Azusa-chan had a stressful day yesterday, right Azusa-chan?”

Hearing Ui’s leading question made it tempting for Azusa to simply agree, but instead she shook her head. “It’s true, but I don’t want to use that as an excuse to cover for my behavior,” Azusa told both of her friends. “I shouldn’t complain now. The objective I set was accomplished and I made my decision already. I’m part of HTT. I just need to figure out the best way to make sure that stays true after graduation.”

Both Ui and Jun were left confused by Azusa’s proud declaration. “What are you talking about?” Jun questioned, exchanging a look with Ui. “I mean, you’re thick, but not that thick. We’re talking frozen ice cream that breaks metal spoons kind of thick here. Why would you ever not be considered a member of that gang of morons?”

The analogy was ignored by all other parties. “It’s been like a day or two,” Azusa defended. “I told you a while ago that I don’t know how I really feel, and I’m only just now trying to figure it out with Yui-senpai and the others. I do apologize for my moody behavior, but this isn’t something I intend to rush. Until now, I’ve been ignoring the truth that I can’t follow them next year. Because of that, I’ve allowed myself to wallow instead of looking for a solution. No more. I’m gonna do my best for my senpais and keep the band intact for them.”

“You might not have a choice in what they do,” Jun reminded her ominously. “Time only moves just fast enough to be inconvenient, you know. Your senpais need to make their future decisions sooner rather than later.” She finished the last of her drink to punctuate her point, the sound of inhaled air echoing around the table.

Unsure of what her friend was talking about, Azusa was about to ask when she felt a hand tugging on her long sleeve. Turning to Ui, Azusa was startled to see nothing in Ui’s eyes. It wasn’t dissimilar to Yui, but Ui had a noticeable air of defensive hostility around her that Yui didn’t. The distance she had been feeling from Yui since the 16th was as if Yui was continuously walking away from her every time she thought she could get close. Ui wasn’t moving, but Azusa could tell that if she tried to approach, her safety would be compromised. “So is what Onee-chan said true?” she whispered, inducing Jun to lean in closer to hear. “I thought she was kidding. You really asked her out?”

There was a thunderous bang as Jun’s knees shot up to collide with the bottom of the table. Their pile of fries went from a hill to a field in an instant, irreparably damaging the ecosystem of the area for centuries to come. Several other customers shot Jun dirty looks that might have made the bassist self-conscious if she was aware of anything other than what Ui had just said in the moment. For all her inability to focus today, Azusa had maintained the presence of mind to know that this moment was coming, allowing her to be swift in rebuking Ui’s claim. “You’re overexaggerating. I might have called it that to get her attention, but it’s really just a meeting for us to discuss our futures. I’m just making sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. That’s all.” Only part of the truth had been told, but to outright admit that her feelings on Yui specifically were conflicted in front of Ui felt like a terrible idea.

It hurt to have Ui looking at her with such clear doubt. Ui had been the most helpful in directing Azusa’s steps since Yui’s confession and was likely feeling somewhat betrayed by the guitarist as she rejected the younger sister’s advice to keep her distance from Yui and the band. Jun cleared her throat several times, but nobody paid her any mind until she actually started talking. “So you’re saying that you, Azusa Nakano, actually made a move on someone. A weak, half-hearted, wishy washy move, but a move, nonetheless. Are you well? Do I need to call a doctor? I know a decent practitioner of witchcraft out in-“

“I get it, I get it!” Azusa repined, batting off Jun’s teasing with one hand. “I know very well what it looks like. I needed a way to get that thought out of my head so I could focus on making sure I could stay with the band, so I-“

“Listened to my heart,” Jun finished for Azusa with surprising tranquility, properly settling down. “Good for you. When your heart tells you to do something, do it. For example, my heart is telling me to eat your burger right now, so I will.” She let that statement hang unjustified as she pilfered a bite of Azusa’s burger without resistance, the awkward sound of chewing coming between them.

Ui released her friend’s arm, resorting to swirling the straw in her drink around pensively. Ignoring Jun’s petty thievery, Azusa glanced worriedly at her other friend. The night Yui had attempted to confess, Ui had appeared right as Yui passed out. Azusa hadn’t been entirely shocked, but she was a little disappointed that their moment hadn’t been private in retrospect, however helpful Ui had been. Ui’s words then had inspired Azusa to shut her phone off. She hadn’t had the chance to confront the younger sister over her decision to go back on their consensus and she sensed that Ui had decided now was the best time to address it. The overprotective younger sister sat up straight, meeting Azusa’s concerned gaze evenly. “Azusa-chan, I have to be honest. I’m not comfortable with this. I put on a front because I assumed that you’d reject my sister. When you did, I assumed that she’d go back to her normal self. I was wondering why that wasn’t the case, and when she told me about yesterday, I only got more concerned. Honestly, I don’t want you to lead Onee-chan on any longer. It’s not good for her or you. Onee-chan isn’t mature enough to understand romantic relationships, let alone maintain one herself. What’s more, this isn’t something you have to do just to stay with the band. If you wait a bit longer, I’m sure Onee-chan will forget everything that happened, just as she always does. You don’t need to do this to be a member of HTT.” The words rang true to Azusa, which only furthered her frustration at being unable to push aberrant thoughts on her laziest senpai out of her head.

“How’s she gonna learn if her little sister doesn’t let her get any experience with romance?” Jun refuted in between bites of someone else’s food. “You gonna go boyfriend or girlfriend shopping for her? Yes clerk, please make sure he’s 6 feet tall and blonde with a beard and a steady income. Easy on the back hair, double the muscles.” Jun read off her specifications like she was ordering all over again as Azusa used the moment to snatch her burger back, only just now processing what Jun was doing.

Jun’s eyes widened in confused disbelief as Azusa took a bite of her own food, but the guitarist couldn’t fathom why. Wondering if Jun forgot that this wasn’t her burger, Azusa raised an eyebrow. Before Jun could explain herself, Ui had prepared a rebuttal for her friend. “Don’t make fun of me. Onee-chan can do whatever she wants once I’m sure she’s mature enough to handle it. Besides, Azusa-chan already turned her down. If she’d kept her distance like I suggested, this process could have been smoother. We all have better things to be worrying about.”

Azusa looked down, pretending to focus on chewing as Jun continued to argue on her behalf. She couldn’t just come out and say that the issue of Yui’s maturity had crossed her mind more than once since the 16th. The difference between wanting to act on her frustration lack of action and actually acting was becoming painfully apparent as Jun spoke for her. “For one, I’m only annoyed in the first place because none of you will be honest with yourselves. Not wanting to say anything is one thing, but you won’t even acknowledge what the truth is. Two, this isn’t your entrance exam, it’s a girl. The only thing on the line is your feelings right now, and those won’t last forever. If there’s one thing I know about my friends Ui and Azusa, it’s that they’re God-awful at being honest regarding only things that matter. You said it yourself that your sister hasn’t magically popped back to normal like the emotional bobo doll she is. Give them a chance already, before they make it worse for each other. I know you can tell what graduation is doing to their band.”

It was strange for Azusa to hear those words out of Jun’s mouth knowing how she’d behaved around the Light Music Club’s seniors. She glared suspiciously at the bassist, but nothing in her tone or countenance hinted at any sort of snark that would indicate insincerity. Rather, the lack of sarcasm was more akin to Ui’s normal speech patterns. Said Ui was gripping her drink with enough force that Azusa scooted her chair away so she wouldn’t be caught in the blast zone when Ui crushed it. “Talk this seriously, Jun-chan. Onee-chan’s potential, um, partner, has to be able to provide for her, cook for her, handle her finances, help her get dressed, make sure she isn’t late for school, help her with her homework and guitar practice, bring her things she forgets-“

“Are you talking about yourself?” Azusa interrupted, unable to listen to people arguing for her any longer. “Does Yui-senpai really not know how to do all of that by herself?”

“Of course!” Ui affirmed, earning deadpan stares from her friends that quickly led her to realize her mistake. “Wait, no! Onee-chan is super independent! She just needs help sometimes, and that’s why this is so important! I can’t just hand Onee-chan over to anyone before she’s ready. There’s so many factors to consider that it would be impossible for anyone else to handle it right now. She still needs me!” the younger sister decided for her elder, her tone inviting no argument.

Ui’s declaration dredged up an unpleasant memory within Azusa. She caught herself starting to look out the window again as she recalled the same sort of excuse coming out of the mouths of her parents a lifetime ago. Ejecting the thought from her memory, Azusa refocused on Jun as she wagged a finger at Ui. “Then wouldn’t it be better if it’s someone who knows her like Azusa does?” she pointed out. “Unless that sort of thing isn’t cool with you.”

For a brief moment, Azusa could see Ui’s face contort into genuine anger, but she composed herself before responding. “Of course that has nothing to do with this. I’m not that closeminded, Jun-chan, and I’d like to think I haven’t done anything to give you that impression. My main concern is how seriously Azusa-chan is taking this.” At that, both of Azusa’s friends turned to her for her input. “Well?”

To be put on the spot so suddenly only slowed Azusa’s already stalling thought process. She fidgeted in her plastic chair, unsure of what to say to placate her friends without outright lying. This meant that the first thing that came to her mind that wasn’t immediately rejected is what came out. “Isn’t the point of a date to find those things out? That’s what Yui-senpai said.”

Jun’s wicked grin widened. She bounced up and down in her seat like a child, giggling and pointing at her embarrassed friend. “Oh my God that’s adorable! You’re already getting your life advice from her. It’s a perfect matrimony. I can hear the wedding bells now. Azusa Hirasawa and-”

“Stop it!” Ui sharply ordered, rising from her seat to the tune of metal scraping against tile.

The restaurant became silent save for the faint sounds of the kitchen. The patrons and even the employees were all looking at the standing girl with a yellow sweater and a flushed face. Realizing that she was making a scene as the people spectating started to mumble amongst themselves, Ui sat down in embarrassment, bowing to Jun and Azusa. “Sorry, sorry. I just don’t think this is something that needs discussing. We’ve settled the matter. There’s no need to question anything.”

It was obvious that Jun wasn’t satisfied, the few eyes still drawn to the strange table populated by three loud high school girls irrelevant to her. Her expression became darkly serious as she leaned in towards her other friends. “Listen to me carefully, both of you. Azusa, you’re my friend. I want you to act like it again, and to do that, you need to listen to what your heart is saying instead of your head for once. This-“ she spoke, motioning to the three of them. “Isn’t going to work as the new Light Music Club until you settle things with Yui and the others. We can talk about this bull all day, but that’s the truth. As much as I like eating your lunch for you, I’d rather take satisfaction in you enjoying my company rather than playing leftovers consumer for you.”

Without giving anyone the chance to respond, Jun swerved to face her other friend. “And you. You’re also my friend, and because you’re my friend, I’m not going to let you go on acting so stupid. I said the same thing to that moron,” she explained, jabbing a french fry towards Azusa. “You have no business moping about what you can’t control, and you can’t control your sister. You of all people should know that.”

Ui’s lips remained pursed, the argument in her eyes not ready to let go just yet. Instead of directly responding to the brick wall that was Jun, Ui motioned towards Azusa. “Well, Azusa-chan, if we want to settle this, why don’t you tell us right now how you feel about Onee-chan? When did you suddenly wake up and decide you were, um, you know, ah-“ She faltered, her line of questioning petering off into silence.

“Gay,” Jun finished for her friend as Ui stumbled over herself. “You’re looking for gay, Ui.”

Ui nodded, blushing at the direct approach. Azusa herself felt somewhat flustered. Such an explicit label increased the weight of her decision arbitrarily for her, unaided by the expectant looks from her friends. _Well, that’s what it is. I can’t be successful being public with a label like that. Forget being in the band, my parents would probably kill me for the stigmas alone. Just because that’s not right doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Should that be a factor in my decision? No, right? _ “I don’t know,” Azusa admitted, hoping she was right. “I don’t know anything about romance. All I know is that Yui-senpai confuses me, but not in a bad way? Mou, why are you making me say this out loud?! I told you she doesn’t make sense, didn’t I?”

Jun nodded along dutifully, but Ui used the opportunity to press her point. “See, this is why we shouldn’t just jump into things like dates. If you like, Azusa-chan, you, Onee-chan and I can sit down and discuss things, but I don’t think-“

“Why do you need to be there?” Jun cut in. “It’s the same with you and Azusa. Just know when to butt out already.” Some of abrasive Jun was returning, and it was visibly rubbing Ui the wrong way.

The generally docile younger sister’s eyes darkened as the showdown between her and Jun began to pick up steam. Azusa looked on, dumbfounded as the two boxers began to throw punches with each other over who got to determine her life choices for her. _Am I inconveniencing them too with this? Perhaps I should just keep my big mouth shut. I’ve caused enough problems for Jun-chan and Ui-chan recently. What’s going on with the band is our problem. _“Yes,” Azusa agreed with herself, having no idea if she was affirming something someone said or not. “What’s going on with the band is our problem, nobody else’s. We’re going to resolve it ourselves. I’m not going to let it affect us any longer. I can promise the both of you that, if nothing else.” Whether or not that was true was less important than ending the discussion.

“Says the girl who fell in love with her senpai-ow!” Jun stuttered as Azusa kicked her under the table. “Oh come on, don’t be boring. If you wanna do something, surely you have something to talk abo-ow!”

As she continued her quest to vanquish the meal in front of her, Azusa motioned towards the two girls next to her. “HTT doesn’t dominate my entire life. I have school and the future to think about, and I enjoy spending time with my other friends too. Jun-chan, Ui-chan, trust me to figure this out myself, okay?” she asked, giving the pair a smile she hoped looked genuine.

Expecting a stinging retort, Azusa was surprised when Jun remained silent, content to observe Azusa carefully. Ui’s gaze indicated that she was deferring to Azusa to speak first. Eventually, the bassist collapsed against the table in defeat. “Damn it Azusa, I can’t argue with that in good faith.” When she lifted her head, there was a glint of something akin to respect in Jun’s eyes for one of her friends. “Look, I’m sorry for pushing this so hard. Today is supposed to be fun. What were we talking about before this? Ui’s guitar? Why don’t we get back on track?” she suggested, her posture relaxing.

Though the suggestion sounded ideal to Azusa, turning to Ui for confirmation revealed a mix between conflict and unnerving calm painted across her features. “I’m still concerned,” she confessed, playing with her fingers. “But I don’t want to upset my friends if I can help it. If it was just about you, Azusa-chan, I could let it go, but this concerns Onee-chan too. More than that, your other senpais are involved too, particularly Mugi-senpai. She started this whole thing. Until I know exactly what you intend to do, I can’t just let my sister run around with HTT in good faith and sit on my hands.” That Ui blamed everything on Tsumugi didn’t quite make sense to Azusa, but she had no idea how to approach asking Ui to elaborate without dragging them right back where they started.

The mood soured just as soon as Jun attempted to add sweetener. It was frustrating, but Azusa couldn’t completely blame Ui for being overprotective. She had a clear understanding of wanting something to hold on to in order to fill the void left by an absence of affection. For her, it had been guitar, and during their parents' business trips that stretched weeks into months at a time, Ui and Yui had evidently clung to each other. Azusa and Jun exchanged a worried glance. Though Ui’s trepidation was understandable to the guitarist, it wasn’t as if she was pushing Yui out on a blind date. If Ui was going to be comfortable with anyone being around Yui, it should be someone who was already close to her like her. Thinking this to herself caused Azusa to become flustered, so she hid a blush awkwardly behind her sleeve. _Damn it. Stupid Yui. You’re impossible, especially when you’re not here. I need to lecture you for making your sister care too much about you. For making me want to play with everyone again. _It was as Azusa was pondering on what to do that Jun solved everyone’s problem.

The bassist shot up out of her seat, eyes trained on a form outside the window. “Ah hah! Deus ex machina detected! I’ll get her, so hold that thought, Ui!” Without waiting for a response, Jun dashed off, her dark green coat billowing behind her to make her look like the superhero she probably thought she was.

Azusa and Ui watched Jun dash off, exchanging a mutually uncomprehending look before turning towards the window to see what had caught Jun’s attention. There were a few passerby walking around outside, but the one Jun targeted had donned a gossamer grey coat with pure white fur cuffs, complete with a white cossack hat. Blonde hair tumbled out from under the expensive looking cap, all but confirming for Azusa who Jun had found. Leaning over Azusa to see outside, Ui stiffened when she came to the same conclusion Azusa did. The guitarist continued to watch as Jun waved her arms around like a sailor on a sinking ship and pointed towards where Azusa and Ui were observing. The form turned and made eye contact with its kouhai. Confirming that she was looking at Tsumugi, Azusa gave her senpai a polite wave as Tsumugi started making her way into the burger joint, dragged along by Jun. _Mugi-senpai? What’s she doing out and about in this weather? And what does Jun-chan hope to accomplish by bringing her here? Is she trying to make Ui-chan mad?_

Leaning back, Ui mumbled something to herself that Azusa couldn’t catch. “Pardon?” the guitarist prompted, nudging her friend. “Are you okay? You stiffened up all of a sudden. There’s no need to be afraid of Mugi-senpai.” That was true, but there wasn’t much else Azusa could say in the heiress’ defense at the moment.

Blinking, Ui shook her head too quickly. “Oh no, I’m fine. Just muttering to myself. I’m perfectly fine.” Hearing it twice and in the same insincere tone Azusa had used to make the same statement was more than enough for Azusa to cast doubt on her friend, but she couldn’t question Ui further before her friends rejoined her.

Now able to see it up close, Azusa was again taken somewhat aback by Tsumugi’s choice in clothing. A pale blue dress billowed out from under the puffy grey parka, accentuated by similarly colored boots and a chic purse clutched in the same hand as her hat that screamed affluence. It was as if Tsumugi had tried to prepare for every potential weather condition in the worst way possible. Compared to the scruffy jeans and jackets of Azusa and her friends, the kouhai felt like she’d underdressed to go eat fast food. _She’s like a fairy tale princess. That’s something Mio-senpai would say, at least. Even without that sort of outfit though, she always manages to look so refined. Maybe it comes with her upbringing. I wish I knew how to look pretty like that. _Catching herself beginning to daydream, Azusa became stiff as a board as the pair of Jun and Tsumugi finished their approach.

Tsumugi bowed politely to the two even as Jun finished yanking her towards them. “Azusa-chan, Ui-chan, what a pleasant surprise,” Tsumugi greeted, sounding genuinely elated that she’d run into the three of them. “I was so startled when Jun-chan jumped out in front of me. It’s good to see you out and about, Azusa-chan. I take it that means the dinner went well enough. How are you all doing? Staying warm? It’s rather cold today.” The words flowed like a geyser from Tsumugi’s mouth as she approached, slowing only when she reached the table.

Azusa squinted at her senpai, instinct cautioning her that something was amiss. The girl’s pale complexion was slightly red around her eyes and nose, as if she’d been crying, but it could have been her imagination or the weather. _What’s Mugi-senpai thinking, being out here looking like that? I barely made it here with two jackets and a sweatshirt on. Isn’t she cold? Well, it was like this at the party, and yesterday, too. She must really not have a problem with the cold. _Azusa recalled her conversation with the keyboardist before the dinner yesterday. _The weather isn’t important. If Mugi-senpai’s here, we’re going to have to discuss yesterday. I didn’t even do my best for her while we were playing. I dropped out during that performance, leaving Yui to handle it alone. I didn’t even try to figure out what was wrong with Mio-senpai. I let Ritsu-senpai rifle through my things. I did nothing. _The guitarist’s fists clenched as she became angry with herself.

Tsumugi tilted her head in unison with Azusa’s friends, confused. “No, I don’t think you’re doing anything right now, Azusa-chan,” Tsumugi uncertainly confirmed. “Sorry, but do you mind if I sit down? I’ve been walking around for a while.”

Startled that she had failed to maintain control of her thoughts, Azusa nodded dumbly, allowing Tsumugi to take a seat next to Jun across from her and Ui. Jun, done showing off Tsumugi like a fish she’d just caught, took her seat and set about culling the french fry field she’d created, apparently seeing her job as done. Both Ui and Azusa questioned Jun with their eyes as to why she saw fit to bring Tsumugi there, but Jun payed them no heed. Ui hadn’t spoken since Tsumugi arrived, but when the keyboardist sat down, the younger girl bowed in her seat politely. “Mugi-senpai. It’s been a few days,” she greeted.

Jun scoffed around a mouthful of food, giving up her vow of silence immediately. “You still call her senpai after all this? Bootlicker. You know why I called you here, right keyboardist?” Jun asked brusquely.

Unaffected, Tsumugi nodded. “I would have stopped by of my own volition had I been aware that the three of you were here beforehand. Before anything else, I’d like to apologize once more to the three of you. My decisions of late have been callous to your feelings, and for that you have my apologies. Azusa-chan, for meeting with you under false pretenses, Jun-chan for the train station last week and Ui-chan for making you have tea with me the other day.” Only one of those incidents was familiar in Azusa’s head, but the way Ui and Jun reacted was enough to convince her that Tsumugi wasn’t making things up for fun at the moment.

Azusa stole a glance to Ui, trying to figure out when she’d have had time to have tea with Tsumugi and why that was worth apologizing for. Ui’s expression remained completely void of emotion, akin to a waiter forced to smile for a particularly pugnacious customer. For a moment, Azusa was worried that Ui was shifting into protective younger sister mode, but her reasoning voice returned at the last second. “Mugi-senpai, I’m sorry, but please explain why Jun-chan brought you here and then take your leave. I’m trying to enjoy lunch with my friends.” The frigid ultimatum from the younger girl caught even Jun’s attention.

Tsumugi appeared to be genuinely hurt by Ui’s words, but not surprised. She eyed the food on the table, hands resting on top of each other on the table as she continued. “I understand, Ui-chan. It doesn’t appear you all requested my presence, as Jun-chan implied. I won’t impose on you all for long. You had a question regarding my intentions, I understand? I believe I made it clear to you all, but I don’t mind repeating myself.” She cleared her throat unnecessarily. “I want the band to persist following high school. I consider the band to be like my family. It’s not something I really realized until after the cultural festival, that our time is so limited. After that last performance, I realized that I didn’t want to go on without any of you around, so I decided to do something about it. Azusa-chan, I wanted you to think about Yui-chan differently. We cannot continue on the way we are, pretending that nothing will ever change so long as we don’t address it ourselves. The same goes for Ricchan and Mio-chan, even for Yui-chan. If I have to be the bad guy to do that, I, um, will! I’m probably okay with that!” The last line wasn’t delivered with quite the amount of conviction that Tsumugi probably wanted to cover it with.

Azusa found herself pitying Tsumugi as the heiress stared at her hands. In the span of seconds, Azusa went from looking at a heiress to looking at a girl who was watching her friends walk somewhere she couldn’t follow them to. It was an uncomfortably familiar feeling. “Mugi-senpai, you’re not a bad guy!” Azusa told her senpai matter-of-factly, trying to sound reassuring. “I… appreciate what you’ve been trying to do. Just let me handle things with Yui-senpai from here on in, okay? I told you I’d do my best. Tell Ui-chan that she can trust us.” Her thoughts claimed otherwise, but Azusa wasn’t going to put up anything but a positive front for the senior.

Hearing Azusa’s claim brought a warm smile to the heiress. She looked up, sapphire eyes twinkling with the glow Azusa recognized. “That makes me happy. I’m happy today, Azusa-chan. I promise I won’t mettle by myself in your, ah, romantic affairs. But I still feel like I owe you all. Please, if there’s something I can do to make the last few weeks up to you, don’t hesitate to tell me. I would like to consider you my friends, Ui-chan and Jun-chan. I appreciate everything you both do for my kouhai.”

“Pay for our lunch,” Jun answered instantly, indicating the remains of their food. “Oh, and maybe get us some dessert while you’re at i-hey!” Jun protested as Azusa took a swing at her that barely missed. “Come on, you psychopath, I was obviously kidding! You’ll take a swing at me for that but you don’t care when Ui basically tells her to leave?” the bassist accused Azusa, indignant at the hypocrisy.

“Extortion is worse than being impolite,” Azusa justified, though the line caused her to give her attention back to Ui. “Ui-chan, what do you think? Mugi-senpai isn’t trying to hurt anyone.”

Ui merely turned away, apparently unwilling to show anyone what she was thinking. “The fact that you think that is what’s wrong,” she insisted. “From outside the HTT perspective, her actions are less forgivable, more so for trying to manipulate Onee-chan. Jun-chan, you agree, right?”

Somewhat startled at being called on, Jun only shrugged as a default response. “Don’t ask me. I’m not gonna stay mad for one bad interaction a week ago. She did some dumb stuff, got hurt, and now she’s letting our resident idiots handle it themselves.” Jun clapped the heiress on the back, startling her greatly. “Kotobuki, your heart was in the right place, so even though you’re a moron, I’ll forgive you after you foot the bill here.”

The easy smile Jun gave the heiress faltered when she noticed the icy look she was receiving. Azusa recognized the look, and from the way Jun’s expression twisted, she did too. Azusa frowned, the complete 180 jarring her out of the complacency she had tricked herself into being allowed to feel. “Please, address me by my first name, or as Mugi, Jun-chan,” the heiress requested with absolute calm that only Ui could ever hope to match in terms of intimidation factor. “My friends and family do not call me by my family name.” 

The second part felt a little contradictory to Azusa, but she had the brains not to open her mouth. Jun only nodded once, clearly terrified. “Yes Ma’am! Tsumugi it is! Better yet, Mugi! Or Moog! Wait, Mug, that’s it!” To prevent Jun from hyperventilating, Ui shoved the straw of her drink into Jun’s mouth, the taste of soda calming her down and giving her the clarity to continue. “Ah, thank you Ui, you’re the best. On another note, no, Ui, you’re wrong and I don’t agree with you. Until next year, the Light Music Club’s business isn’t our business. I only cared because it was negatively affecting you two. At the least, Azusa appears to be waking up. Unless there’s something I’m missing, this should be a happy ending.”

“My sister having her heart toyed with is a happy ending?” Ui challenged, withdrawing her straw from Jun’s reach swiftly. “I’m sorry, but I won’t let this go, Mugi-senpai. At least not until my sister is back to normal.”

Sadness marred Tsumugi’s features. Azusa was surprised at how stubborn Ui was being, until she realized that Ui probably saw this whole thing as a threat to her sister, which endangered all of their lives if Ui decided that Yui was better off not being around them. Azusa’s concern for the tension between Ui and Tsumugi suddenly increased. “Yui-chan is going to grow up eventually, Ui-chan,” Tsumugi responded evenly. “Whether you choose to do something or not, things are going to change. It’s a matter of where you’ll be when those changes happen. I’d prefer you be with us.”

The table remained silent for a moment. The idea of Yui growing up was foreign to Azusa. She felt like asking Tsumugi to describe what she was talking about in more detail, like she was a math teacher that had just put forward a tricky problem that hadn’t been taught in class yet. Jun was the first to attempt to break the tension in the room. “Well, with that cheery thought in mind, why don’t you order something, Mugi? We can’t drag you over here and have you not eat with us.”

Tsumugi blinked, like she’d forgotten Jun was there. When she smiled, it was the same hollow smile Ui had employed. “Ah, I’d like to, but I actually have a prior commitment to meet today,” Tsumugi admitted, clasping her hands together. “My apologies. I really just wanted to confirm that Azusa-chan was doing alright after yesterday, but seeing you all like this, my concerns appear to be unwarranted. Another time though, I’d love to sit down and eat with you all.”

“A large reason we salvaged that dinner was thanks to you,” Azusa deflected, bowing in gratitude to her senpai. “Thank you. What are you up to in this weather?” she asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a less dour direction.

Mournfully, Tsumugi smiled, the first indication that Azusa’s idea was going to have the opposite of her intended effect. “Today is a special day for me. I always make time to visit an old friend of mine on this day each year. The weather is no problem for me.”

Intrigued, the three girls leaned in a little closer. “Friend?” Ui questioned suspiciously. “Someone we know?”

Tsumugi again shook her head, finding it within herself to claim a french fry. “Ui-chan, remember the friend I mentioned to you, the one that’s no longer around? Her father was a butler at my main estate. He passed on in a limousine accident years ago. I visit his grave around the anniversary of his passing to update him on my life.” The way she so easily spoke of such heavy matters like she was describing how she brushed her teeth confused Azusa. “He was as much of a father to me as my father was. His funeral was the last place I saw my friend. Since then, I haven’t been able to track her down, though that’s not for lack of trying. I’m looking forward to telling him about Ton-chan. He always liked the turtles we kept as pets.”

“I remember hearing about that accident,” Ui noted to herself. “But only because it happened on Onee-chan’s birthday, so mom and dad hid it from her so she wouldn’t get upset and wouldn’t let me say anything about it. Wouldn’t that mean you should visit next Sunday?” Realizing what she was saying, self-awareness followed by sincere shame was expressed on Ui’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal. I’m sorry for your loss.”

A simple wave from the heiress made Ui’s shame unwarranted. “Please, there’s no need for that. I didn’t want to be busy on Yui-chan’s birthday, that’s all. Birthdays aren’t good days to feel sad.”

A rebuke came to Azusa’s mind, but she didn’t dare use it. “I… didn’t know about that,” was all she could think to offer up in response to Tsumugi’s revelation.

Blinking as if she just remembered the others were there, Tsumugi smiled warmly. “Right, I’ve only told Ui-chan about my friend. Let me explain briefly.”

As Tsumugi reminisced on the friend she had long before ever stepping foot in Sakuragaoka high, Azusa was struck by the sense of longing she got from Tsumugi’s tone. Azusa had memories like that too, but she couldn’t look at them without at least a window of separation. The people she knew back then were like characters in a story to her. For Tsumugi to have lost people like that and still think so highly of them was unfathomable to the younger guitarist. To hear such a clear and raw emotion from the heiress was an overwhelming feeling, like she’d suddenly yanked the blinds that had only been cracked open all the way off the window. _Mugi-senpai. You hid something like this from everyone? Is this why you’re so adamant we stick together. No, it doesn’t all add up yet. Something’s still missing. I want to be helpful. How can I be helpful, Mugi-senpai?_

Pondering on this missing piece was stalled as Azusa was shocked to notice Jun listening intently while Tsumugi concluded her explanation. “But please, don’t worry about any of that, it’s in the past,” Tsumugi spoke unconvincingly, waving away her own words. “I really shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. It only creates unnecessary trouble for everyone. Please don’t mention it to father or anyone else. It would only upset him.”

Of all people, Jun was the one to stand up for Tsumugi first, rising out of her chair to stare the confused heiress down. “You were honest, and that’s a hell of a lot more progress than I’ve seen out of the company I’ve been keeping,” she praised and insulted at the same time. “Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with. We won’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the band!” Azusa seconded, not wanting to be outdone. “I promised you I’d do my best, so I will.”

All three girls turned their heads to Ui. The girl blinked, dodging their questioning stares by looking at the ground. “Ah, well, I won’t tell Onee-chan,” was all Ui managed to get out, refusing to meet everyone’s gaze.

Nodding in satisfaction, Tsumugi relaxed in her seat. “Thank you. I think I understand why Ricchan enjoys venting a little more now. It’s been a while since we could talk like this, Azusa-chan. I’d like to remedy that as soon as possible.”

“Yeah,” Azusa agreed. “For the band, too.”

With that, Tsumugi smiled warmly before rising from her chair. As she put her cossack back on and placed a bill that was far more than the girls needed to cover the cost of their food on the table, she suddenly turned, pointing a finger towards Azusa. “Right! I almost forgot. Azusa-chan, have you spoken to your parents since yesterday?” she asked unprompted.

Frowning at the finger pointed at her, Azusa shook her head. “Not really. I mean, they didn’t tell me to quit the club, if that’s what you’re worried about, but they’re busy working or something.” It was easier to say that her parents were working than to claim that she had no idea how to approach her own family at the moment.

Tsumugi turned her pointing finger into a thumbs up. “I see. Well, when you get the chance, you should talk to them again. They care a lot more deeply than I believe you give them credit for.”

The careless comment irritated Azusa. “That’s just what I’m sure it looks like on the surface,” Azusa retorted. “You don’t live with us, Mugi-senpai. They’re different with guests around.”

Though she’d done her best to make her intentions clear, Tsumugi’s smile didn’t falter. “I’d like to think I’ve gotten rather good at reading people in those situations. I know how to dive beyond the surface people want to show you, Azusa-chan. I think you’re very lucky. Your parents are far more invested in you than you think. If you let them, your parents will probably help you.” The warning delivered, Tsumugi took a step backwards, retrieving her purse in the process. “Now, I really must be going. I still have to pick up some flowers and make the trip before it gets too late. It was nice talking with you all. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Tsumugi vanished into the crowd just as quickly as she appeared.

As soon as she was gone, Jun collapsed into her chair like she was somehow the one who was the most drained by that interaction. Nobody said anything for a while, the only sound besides the world moving along around them the grating noise of Jun finishing off the french fries. Azusa later recalled that conversation started up once again between them, but there was something noticeably different. It was as if Jun and Ui had swapped roles. While Jun was still her normal provocative self, all of her insults rested solely on the surface level. It was obvious that some weight had been removed from Jun’s conscious that Azusa didn’t even realize was there, let alone what its purpose was. Ui, on the other hand, was impassively quiet, even more so than Azusa had been. She deflected any question thrown her way, her gaze mostly fixed on the window and the people none of them knew. Azusa wanted to do something, but she had no idea where to begin. _Have I really upset Ui-chan that much by what I said to Yui? But I can’t back out now. That would make things worse, and upset Jun-chan. _The comparison to a tug of war resurfaced in Azusa’s mind. _I can’t seem to please both of them at once. Mou. Things were complicated enough with my senpais. Mugi-senpai thinks I should say something to mother and father too. I don’t know what to do. _The logical conclusion that followed was that Azusa had been unable to form a plan by the time lunch was concluded, though Jun’s chatter was admittedly distracting.

As she made her way home with her friends, Azusa could only think about the next day. _I have to set a date for Yui tomorrow. I also need to figure out what’s going on with the others, and let them know where we’re at with the dinner. That’s what a good kouhai would do. I promised my senpais that I’d do my best to stay with them. _“I’m going to do my best,” Azusa announced to her friends as they approached Jun’s bus stop.

“Good for you?” Jun encouraged hesitantly, shivering against the cold. “What are you talking about?”

“For us, and for my senpais,” Azusa told her friends. “I refuse to stand still any longer. I’m going to make things right for everyone. That includes Yui-senpai, Ui-chan. Jun-chan, I’m going to become the greatest club president you’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Jun responded easily, drawing her arms into herself. “You have my support.”

Ui was slower to speak up, but there was some familiar warmth that vaguely reminded Azusa of Yui as Ui spoke. “I appreciate that, Azusa-chan. I’ll do my best too. We’ll be an amazing club next year.”

The band’s chatter picked up in volume as they waited for Jun’s bus. Despite the clear tension between Jun and Ui, neither girl allowed it to get in the way of their conversation again, placating Azusa. _It’s just a rough patch. Once I clear things up with Yui, Ui-chan will go back to normal. I’ll be normal. Jun-chan is already acting more like Jun-chan. I have to start moving, to help them. _As she walked the final stretch of the walk home alone, thoughts of Azusa’s parents brought a determined grimace to the kouhai. _Right. This is how I was raised, and that’s who the real Azusa Nakano is supposed to be. There’s no point in being successful if I can’t be happy._

* * *

**November 20th, A Local Supermarket**

“So, you decided to drag me out to run errands with you why again?” Mio questioned irritably, taking in the sight of various vibrantly colored chip bags as Ritsu pushed a shopping cart past her. “You said that it was an emergency. I almost tripped getting my jacket on, you know.”

The drummer gave Mio a look that implied the answer should be obvious. “This is an emergency. I wanted to buy snacks and I don’t have any money. Why else would I call you to go shopping with me? It’s not for your company.”

Mio turned on her heel, unwilling to put up with a Ritsu today. She had been right in the middle of studying when Ritsu interrupted her, just a convenient reminder that the largest obstacle to getting what she wanted had nothing to do with her work ethic. “I’m going home,” she informed her friend coldly. “If you’re able to say idiotic things like that with a straight face there’s nothing wrong except the fact that you think your poverty counts as an emergency.”

An infuriating chuckle rang out from behind Mio. The bassist sensed danger as the sound of rolling wheels behind her filled her ears. Without hesitation, Mio deftly sidestepped to the left in time to watch Ritsu careen past her, her makeshift battering ram only barely avoiding capsizing and crashing to the ground. Rather than apologize for trying to run her friend over, Ritsu decided to snap her fingers in disappointment once she’d regained control of her vehicle. “Why’d you get out of the way?” she had the audacity to whine, rolling the cart back and forth in place.

“Why’d you just try to kill me?!” Mio shot back, placing her hands on her hips. “Is this funny to you?”

To Ritsu’s credit, she at least attempted to appear serious before breaking down into an unapologetic grin. “Oh come on, I knew you’d dodge it. I just wanted you to take this seriously. Also if I knocked you down you’d be unable to walk away when I asked you for help with my homework. Please help me with my math homework by the way. That’s the real emergency. I’ll cover like, at least a third of the food bill.”

It was still incredibly tempting for Mio to simply continue walking away, but the way Ritsu was eagerly anticipating her response told her that she wouldn’t be able to shake off the drummer without locking herself in her room, if even that could work. _She’s always like this. When she wants something, it’s like she devolves into a screaming toddler. A screaming toddler with a weapon. _Eyeing the shopping cart, Mio decided that she’d rather get this over with rather than wait for Ritsu to cripple her or give up trying after the sun went down. “You don’t need to summon me out here for homework, you know that, right? Mou, whatever, you win. But we’re splitting the cost and the snacks. You better have money on you,” she threatened, eyeing Ritsu’s jean pocket.

Patting the pocket reassuringly, Ritsu smiled that stupid smile of hers Mio hated. It was so unabashedly raw that it was off-putting to the reserved bassist. She’d gotten used to it with time, but sometimes she forgot that Ritsu had far fewer problems expressing herself than she did. _But if what Mugi-chan said is true, then I’ve been reading that side of Ritsu wrong for years. No, shut up. You’ll just get angry again. _“Of course, worrywart! I wouldn’t leave you hanging. Au contraire, this is the foundation of our relationship. Haven’t you learned how our dynamic works by now?” Ritsu instructed mockingly.

Scoffing at Ritsu’s play at sounding intelligent, Mio doubled down on her decision by turning to face the chip bags. “Says the one who thinks inviting her friends to come meet them just to take their money is socially acceptable.”

Ritsu only chuckled, apparently trusting Mio not to leave as she also focused on the wall of unhealthy snacks in front of her. Within seconds, she’d tossed a brand she knew Mio hated into the cart as she responded. “Well if I’d told you my true goal was to lure you into the slaughterhouse out back to murder you so you couldn’t get in the way of my plans of world domination, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

Against her more sensible impulses, Mio cringed in fear. Noticing this, Ritsu slunk up to Mio’s ear, whispering all manner of gruesome ways she could be murdered with a shopping cart. As Ritsu expected, she was rewarded for her bad behavior with Mio yelping and flailing her arms, knocking several bags of chips to the ground and earning the pair a murderous glare from a passing employee. Startled out of her fear by embarrassment, Mio hurriedly helped her exasperating friend clean up her mess. As she finished her task by taking the chip bag Ritsu had selected from the shopping cart and returned it to the shelf, she mused over how to punish her friend for her behavior. _Maybe I’ll purposely make her miss some of the homework problems. No, that’s cruel. Mou. Still cleaning up after her. Isn’t this getting old, Ritsu? We should be adults. _That she didn’t say that out loud told Mio all she needed to know about where her own status on that question was.

Punting an unfortunate bag of chips into its place on the bottom shelf, Ritsu gave her friend a cheeky look that made Mio start to reconsider her decision. “Okay, maybe the murder thing was a lie, but I legitimately can’t do calculus without you. I mean, you had nothing going on anyways, right? I’ll split the bill with you and you can have 20% of the snacks. Come onnn, Mio-chuan, I wanna hang out with my friend!”

“I already said yes to helping you, which means this is a study session, not hanging out,” Mio countered, tossing a new bag of chips into Ritsu’s cart. “And I’m getting at least half of the snacks. If you don’t want to do that, you’re wasting both of our times that could be better spent doing anything else.”

It had been like that for as long as Mio had known Ritsu, and yet somehow she had agreed to meet up with the drummer in the local supermarket anyways, knowing full well from experience what she was getting herself into. If Ritsu was a fool, she was a royal fool for constantly going along with her antics. _The least she could have done is told me why she really dragged me out here. She hasn’t asked to hang out and do homework like this since summer classes. I thought she might actually have something to say after what happened last week, but she never changes. If it’s not some inane scheme, it’s money help. Well, maybe I’m being too harsh. She’s been better since high school started. Not much better, but better. At least Yui-chan has the common courtesy to admit the reasoning behind her random meetings. I should be channeling these feelings into my sound. Taking it out on Ritsu isn’t good for anyone._

“Honestly though, what’s up with the weather this month?” Ritsu wondered aloud, beating aggressively around the bush as she dragged their duo into another aisle, ignoring the swap in chip bags. “First it got way too cold, then we had that fog, then all this damn rain and snow that makes it impossible to go anywhere. I’m still not totally convinced that Nakano isn’t actually possessed.” The door to a rebuttal for Ritsu’s banter was wide open to Mio, but she didn’t immediately walk through it.

Ritsu looked away when she realized that Mio wasn’t planning on speaking to her immediately, a hint of disappointment visible for an instant before her face became hidden from view. This bothered Mio, but not enough to change her mind over her next move. It was as they came to a stop in the drink aisle that Mio found the words she’d been searching for. “Yes, I do wish the weather would just pick something and stick to it,” she lamented carefully, hoping Ritsu understood what, or rather who she was referring to.

With her head halfway into the drink fridge, Ritsu was able to cheat Mio out of her initial reaction. Her earlier attempts at broaching this topic had been roughly as roundabout, and even Mio was getting somewhat fed up with herself at her inability to confront the drummer on her dragging her feet over the college idea. When she emerged once more after dropping several bottles of juice into the cart, there was a strikingly somber look on Ritsu’s face. “Sorry about yesterday. I know it’s not easy dealing with me and Yui at the same time. I tried to act like a responsible club president when it mattered, but I know you and Mugi had to cover for me most of the night. I just want you to know I appreciate that. So, uh, thanks.” Closing the fridge door, Ritsu gave her friend a half-smile.

Mio was instantly suspicious. Nothing about the picture in front of her made any sense. If Ritsu truly felt the need to apologize to her, she’d do it through much more circuitous means and certainly wouldn’t directly admit her own shortcomings. _There’s no way she would call me out here for this. There has to be something else going on. I need to figure it out. _Mio’s hunch was proved accurate when Ritsu extended a hand to her. “I appreciate you, Mio. We make a great team.”

As she eyed the extended offer of friendship, an idea was formed in Mio’s mind. It wasn’t exactly nice, but it could be considered fair revenge for the chip aisle. Before Ritsu could react, Mio took Ritsu’s other hand and pressed it against her outstretched one, holding her friend’s hands together in front of her. “Yes, you’re my best friend, Ritsu,” Mio responded sarcastically as Ritsu struggled not to display any signs of discomfort. “In fact, we’re such great friends, you wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this for oh, I don’t know, 5 minutes, right?” she teased.

Realizing her plan had backfired, Ritsu quickly surrendered. “Okay, okay, I give! You win! You’re the smartest person in the band!” Satisfied, Mio released the drummer, who flung her hands apart like two repelling magnet poles to reveal the joy buzzer trapped between them. She scooped up the device irritably, massaging her shocked hand. “Damn. I worked so hard to hide that, too. I guess I’m slipping. I’ll have to-“ Ritsu’s plans for revenge were interrupted by the buzzing of Mio’s phone.

Not expecting a call, Mio raised a hand in apology to Ritsu while retrieving the device with her other hand. Had it not been Yui calling, Mio might not have answered, but she wasn’t about to ignore a call from a band member that wasn’t Ritsu. “Hello? Yui-chan?” Mio answered, eyes darting over to the drinks as she waited for Yui to talk.

“Mio-chan! What are you up to?” came the cheery voice on the other end.

Mio started to smile involuntarily. Even after everything that had happened, Yui never failed to continue charging headfirst into everything with a dumb smile on her face. _I should learn from her example. She believes in us even after the month we’ve had._ As she continued to browse the drinks, she mulled over whether or not to tell Yui what she was doing. _If I tell her I’m with Ritsu, she might try to get everyone together. I don’t really want to see Mugi-chan right now. If Ritsu is right about one thing, it’s that she’s as much to blame as Ritsu herself is. I guess it’s partially my fault, too. _“Mio-chan? Hello? Are you busy?” Yui’s voice inquired from the other line.

Realizing she’d spent an inordinate amount of time being silent, Mio opened her mouth to speak just as she felt her phone get snatched from her fingers. “Yo, Yui! Good to hear from you. Yeah, I’m with Mio. She’s busy trying to see how long it’ll take her eyebrows to freeze if she sticks her head in the fridge. Yeah, I don’t get it either, but you know Mio.” Already expecting Mio’s desperate grab for the phone, Ritsu casually warded her friend off with her joy buzzer while she continued her conversation.

“Nah, she looks like she’s gonna be occupied for a while. That can wait until tomorrow, right? Yeah. Yeah, cool. Alright, talk to you later. Bye.” With a click, Mio’s conversation was completely stolen from her. “Anyways, pick a drink before they all get warm, will you?” Ritsu ordered, tossing the phone back to Mio and motioning towards the open door.

Dumbfounded, Mio barely managed to catch the device, and when she did, she immediately jabbed it in the face of its thief. “What was that?!” she yelled, getting uncomfortably close to her face.

Ritsu shot a warding glance to the few customers who were interested in the scene Mio was creating. When she was sure they were moving on, the drummer felt comfortable defending herself. “What? It was Yui. You looked busy, so I fielded the call for you. You should be thanking me,” Ritsu argued hastily, brushing Mio’s accusation away.

Mio was remarkably tempted to just give up and go home. Ritsu was basically going out of her way to be as insufferable as possible, between provoking her and making her look stupid in front of people that would probably believe the moon didn’t exist if the concept was explained to them convincingly. It was a nagging feeling that scratched at the back of Mio’s mind that prevented her from leaving, one that was so outlandish she’d been able to completely ignore it as a possibility up to this point. Now, seeing Ritsu’s expectant expression, Mio couldn’t hold herself back any longer. “Are you trying to get me to leave?” the bassist asked, her hands dropping to her sides.

The shocked expression Mio received told her that she was right on the money, and the hasty smile Ritsu attempted to cover it up with confirmed it. “What? Are you crazy? I invited you out here, didn’t I? I mean, I’m bored, but I’m not so bored I’d call you out here just to tease you until you leave. I’m not that cruel.”

“No, you’re not,” Mio agreed, taking a step forward as she found the initiative in their exchange for the first time. “That’s why I want to know what this is really about.” Mio was fairly certain at this point that she knew what direction this conversation was heading, but she knew that Ritsu had to be the one to say it.

Teetering between one foot and the other, Ritsu appeared as if she was looking past Mio for a way around the conversation she’d initiated. Deciding to give Ritsu the benefit of the doubt, Mio turned her attention to the drink fridge once more, taking the time to pick out the drinks she and Ritsu preferred while the drummer remained mum. By the time she’d filled the cart with her selections, Ritsu was leaning against an adjacent fridge, lost in thought. Mio took the cart, pushing it directly in front of the drummer to capture her attention. Ritsu glanced at her childhood friend. “You saw what happened yesterday, right?” she asked, walking in front of her friend with unnatural purpose in her gait.

Trailing behind the club president, Mio thought back to last night’s dinner. Learning from a fellow lefty aside, the only event of note had been Yui’s performance. _I suppose what the parents said was somewhat interesting, too, but it’s not like I didn’t know I had all those things to deal with. It’s no secret that the real world is harsh, though I can’t claim to have any knowledge on the validity of that statement. Regardless, we’re going to be adults soon, like it or not. That’s why getting Ritsu to listen to me is more important than ever. Azusa-chan heard how it feels. That’s going to be her burden next year. I should be setting a better example for her. _“Yui-chan’s playing has improved,” Mio noted, eyeing the various foods they passed as Ritsu wandered the aisles. “I’m honestly surprised, though maybe I shouldn’t be. It’s just like her to practice guitar instead of studying for entrance exams.”

Clenching her fists, Ritsu whirled on Mio, nearly getting hit by the cart in the process. “That’s your main takeaway? Not anything about those parents seemed off to you?” she accused, crossing her arms.

Mio tilted her head. “No. It’s not like they said anything particularly outlandish. They seemed like normal people, though Takumi-san is exceptional at the guitar. He complimented Yui-chan and I, you know.”

“Did he compliment Nakano?” Ritsu responded, her eyes implying she knew the answer despite not being there.

It took Mio a second to recall the answer to that question, the fact returning to her as she replayed the memory. “No, I don’t think so,” she admitted, shrugging off the result. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Ritsu indignantly responded, storming into another aisle. “You heard those guys while we were eating. They have no intention of letting Nakano do what she wants out of high school.”

“What gave you that impression?” Mio countered, unsure if she was being a contrarian for the sake of it or not. “It sounded more like they’re just concerned for her future, and ours as her friends. They were musicians too. If you asked them, they’d probably be on board with my idea.”

Ritsu only sighed as she came to a stop in the middle of her chosen aisle. “You’re not following me. If those guys with all the talent you say they have couldn’t do what we’re trying to do, we don’t stand a chance as we are. Whether it’s true or not, that’s how they’re thinking. I overheard the mother talking to Mugi. She was telling her to make sure she stayed as far away from her daughter as possible. It’s obvious they have no intention of letting her have anything to do with us after March. Does that make sense?”

“Who says we have to stand a chance?” Mio countered. “And you probably just misheard her. Takumi-san said he’d follow our career with interest. Our band is fine with the members it has. We don’t have to be better than anyone else. What’s wrong with wanting to keep that going?”

“Wanting the impossible is stupid,” Ritsu responded, letting her eyes be drawn to a pack of pudding to avoid looking at her friend. “I thought Nakano might be full of it at first too, but I can’t ignore what I saw. Ask Mugi, she’ll agree with me. Nakano’s parents have her on a tighter leash than Yui does. That’s not a bad cosplay idea, actually…” Ritsu’s point was derailed as she entered a fantasy land Mio had no intention of following her to.

Leaving her friend and her weird fantasies behind, Mio made it all the way to the end of the aisle before Ritsu caught up to her, shoving two packs of pudding in her face. “Oi. You think leaving me behind is funny? Plain or chocolate?”

“It wasn’t?” Mio asked, doing her best to sound genuinely confused. “And you know what I prefer,” she muttered crossly.

“Ha ha. And normally you go for plain, but when you’re upset, you tend to get the chocolate because it makes you feel better even though it’s more calories,” Ritsu pointed out like that was a given. “I happen to be an expert in how Mio’s twisted mind works.”

Ritsu’s reward was a smack on the head. “Don’t say stupid things like that,” Mio chided, her face becoming red as she put the chocolate pudding in the cart. “Being around you is embarrassing enough. Let’s check out. I don’t think I have enough to cover any more than this.”

Smirking victoriously, Ritsu callously returned the unselected pack where it didn’t belong before joining Mio on her way to checkout. As she contemplated her next move, Mio eventually settled on being assertive. She’d promised Yui and technically Azusa at this point that she’d come up with a way to keep everyone together. “We knew we’d have to separate eventually,” Mio admitted, training her eyes on the cart. “I don’t agree with what Mugi-chan has been doing, but I can at least appreciate that she’s trying to do something. I know Azusa-chan and Yui-chan at least feel the same way. Even you said you didn’t want to see us go, Ritsu. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go to college with us. Don’t tell me you’ve somehow landed a job already.”

“That’s not it,” Ritsu denied, apparently having expected this by her reaction. “I said it once and I’ll say it again: you can’t make this decision based on what your friends are doing. Damn it, I’m concerned about you, Mio. Don’t throw away the future you could have because of the band.”

The argument set Mio off just as easily as the last time Ritsu tried it. It was time to put an end to Ritsu’s inane delusions. The bassist leaned in dangerously close to Ritsu’s face. “Enough. Stop talking like my wanting to be around my friends is some burden I have to shoulder. I’m here because I enjoy being in this band, aren’t I? This is what I want to do,” she explained calmly and clearly, unconcerned with how she looked. “This is what we both want, isn’t it?”

“It’s what you want because you don’t want to do anything you don’t have a sure understanding of,” Ritsu countered, leaning against the cart with her hands to gain some distance. “You’re the one everyone has to rely on as the voice of reason. I’m not so stupid that I can’t figure that. If things continue the way they’re going, you’ll gladly throw away all the work you’ve done over the past three years for some short-term crap version of happiness you think we can give you in return. Mio, the band isn’t as important as we are. We should be thinking about our own futures. You’re the one who’s always telling us to act like adults. Well now I’m telling you to act like an adult too.” It left Mio incredulous to hear something like that coming out of Ritsu’s mouth.

The two stood in silence, waiting in the surprisingly long line. Ritsu continued to hang on the cart with a contemplative expression on her face while Mio found herself at a loss for what to do. _I already know they rely on me. I told Azusa-chan as much a few days ago. That was probably a mistake. Yesterday, too. I’m letting my worries bleed into my music too much. That’s probably why I haven’t been able to think of any lyrics recently. Stupid Ritsu, getting in the way of everything. Yet Azusa-chan accepted my music for what it was, without even hesitating. It’s like she didn’t even care how it sounded. Why can’t Ritsu see that it’s about more than what Azusa’s parents were saying? _“When I ended up playing with Azusa-chan the other day, I realized something,” Mio spoke carefully, avoiding the previous topic.

Ritsu glanced up. She’d spent most of the last minute pretending to be very interested in the various types of mints lining the checkout counter “Is that right? Don’t tell me she confessed to you. Oh wait, did she? That hug was pretty intimate.”

“Baka,” Mio uttered, lacking the energy necessary to physically reprimand her friend. “Azusa-chan meant what she said when she said she wanted to stick with us. When we played together, she sang with me.”

As Mio had hoped, Ritsu’s fickle interest was piqued. “Oh, really? Cool. Was she any good?”

The constant swerving between serious and casual conversation might have made Mio carsick talking to anyone else, but Ritsu had never been difficult to talk to. Of all people, Ritsu was probably the only person Mio felt like she could effectively communicate with. _Even if you don’t feel the same way about me, that’s how I feel about you, Ritsu. Baka Ritsu. Our futures and our friendship don’t have to be mutually exclusive. You’re important too, Ritsu. You think that I don’t think that, don’t you? _Realization struck Mio as she suddenly understood what Ritsu probably actually wanted to talk about, the thought bringing a a private smile to her face. “No. She was hesitant, scared even, but where it counted, she forced herself to sing. It was like she was telling me that she was willing to do whatever it took to be with us.”

Ritsu grunted in affirmation, looking down once more. They both knew what Mio was implying with that sentiment, but it was still Ritsu that ended up speaking first again. “I know I look like the bad guy here,” she admitted, stretching idly. “Maybe I am. No fairy tale ending, so speaks the club president. Frankly, I’m still miffed at Mugi and Yui for messing around with everyone’s heads, especially you and Nakano.”

This was news to Mio. She’d understandably expected Ritsu to harbor some anger towards Tsumugi, but to be angry at Yui made less sense to her, without even factoring in how they’d gotten along just fine yesterday. Additionally, Ritsu wasn’t usually one to stay mad much longer than a day or two about anything. “They’re all misguided,” Ritsu continued, reasoning against herself. “They don’t understand what the things they want are or take to get. I don’t either. That’s something I figured already and confirmed yesterday. None of us have a damn idea what it means to be outside our safe little bubble, and we’re too scared to find out. Well, I’m not going to let it stand. Things have to actually change, and not in the way Mugi’s talking about.”

It was an ominous tirade, but not one Mio hadn’t considered how to handle. As the two of them moved to the front of the checkout line, Mio delivered her piece. “I want the band to stay together. I can handle that and preparing for my own future,” Mio asserted.

“No, you can’t,” Ritsu countered. “You said it yourself that you’ve been playing team mom for the past three years. It’s about damn time someone in this band put you before themselves.”

It was as the store clerk gave Ritsu a curious glance that Ritsu realized just how embarrassing what she was saying was and that they’d reached the front of the line. Despite herself, Mio felt a small smile coming on as Ritsu started an argument with the store clerk for invading her privacy. _Baka Ritsu. I know you, too. Not well enough to predict what stupid thoughts are going through your mind, but well enough to know what kind of stupid thoughts they are. Maybe you just really wanted to talk about what Mugi said. I shouldn’t have pushed what I was saying so hard. We should have dealt with this like adults sooner. The rest can wait. _Paying for her and Ritsu’s share of the snacks, Mio snatched Ritsu by her collar. “Come on, you. Someone has to help me eat these,” she exclaimed, dragging the drummer away.

“You still wanna hang out?” Ritsu questioned as she let Mio pull her towards the exit by the arm, genuinely confused. “You’re not that dependent on me, are you?”

Scoffing, Mio indicated the overflow of junk food in her cart. “Hardly. We’re going to your house so you can get the money to pay for your half. Also to finish your homework. I’m not so cruel that I’d leave you to your own devices just because you’re a moron.”

These words had a strangely positive effect on the drummer, whose tune became unnaturally positive the second Mio confirmed that she intended to go along with her friend’s plan. Thoughts of Ritsu being a masochist filled Mio’s head not for the first time as they made their way to Ritsu’s house, the space between them filled with Ritsu’s meaningless chatter. The marked improvement in Ritsu’s mood failed to distract Mio from the fact that Ritsu had apparently been concerned that she’d be turned down. The thought only emboldened Mio’s resolve to get to the heart of what was bothering Ritsu. _It’s rare for Ritsu to admit she needs help. Situations like this are the closest she ever comes to requesting aid. Even if Ritsu herself is rarely helpful, I’m the idiot who decided to stick around her. I’m not her childhood friend if I ignore the fact that she wants me to make her say something here. No matter what her stance is, I won’t get anywhere into the future like this._

After greeting Ritsu’s parents and sequestering herself in Ritsu’s room with the academically challenged girl, Mio set about handling her homework and eating junk food, her and Ritsu’s previous conversation tabled as they became absorbed in dealing with a mutual enemy. Ritsu had always been terrible at math, which oddly enough had helped it become one of Mio’s preferred subjects. She couldn’t recall exactly when it happened, but she’d realized at some point that she really enjoyed tutoring her friend. It certainly wasn’t because Ritsu was a good learner, though. If the drummer remembered anything besides the name of the person who took the test after covering a unit, Mio considered it a blessing from the gods. It wasn’t because she enjoyed teaching, either, because no matter how bad Ritsu was, she would never beat Yui’s record for forgetting the quadratic formula a record 7 times in the span of 30 minutes. Mio was certain that Azusa had to be at least somewhat insane for continuing to tutor Yui on guitar, though she wasn’t complaining about having that duty relieved of her by any means. The reason she enjoyed working with Ritsu specifically probably came down to how well they knew each other. Though she was loathe to display such intimate knowledge of such a massive slacker to the outside world, Mio was absolutely confident in Ritsu’s habits to the point that their system at each other’s houses allowed for some of the most productive work Mio could enjoy. Of course, that was only on the rare occasions Ritsu was willing to study, which was predictably only the day before exams. To the outsider, it probably looked effortless.

Mio eats a chip while Ritsu solves a problem, Ritsu takes a drink while Mio checks her work, Mio and Ritsu exchange a word or two on what Ritsu needs to improve on, Mio works on her own homework while Ritsu corrects herself, rinse and repeat. It was a comfortable rhythm, not that Mio would ever admit it. If Ritsu found out she was enjoying herself, she’d probably never do her own work ever again, the way she’d never shut up if Mio ever admitted she enjoyed the rare strikes of quiet between them. It was because this routine had become so ingrained in Mio’s mind that she knew she still needed to say something. Though she could tell that Ritsu was doing her absolute best to retain the focus needed to complete her task, the drummer’s mind couldn’t completely conceal that it was elsewhere. The drummer’s gaze wandered around the room that had barely changed since Mio first visited it in elementary school. Mio’s resolve hardened. _This has to be the real reason she called me. There’s no way Ritsu actually needs my help with homework that isn’t even due tomorrow. And… the only way to get her attention is to be direct. It’s not scary, it’s Ritsu. Of all people, I can be direct with Ritsu. I want Ritsu to be direct with me. I can’t be wishy washy here. _“So, you like me, huh?” Mio asked, fingering the page Ritsu was on to get her attention.

Privately, Mio had been hoping she could get Ritsu to freak out in the same way she was so adept at getting her to freak out, but Ritsu only continued solving the problem she was on with one hand while decimating the contents of a bag of chips with the other. “Yeah. It was a long time ago though,” she responded casually. “Is this right?”

Glancing impatiently at the problem, Mio’s mind rapidly discerned the errors and pointed them out without her conscious input. As Ritsu started again without further comment, Mio’s shoulders sagged. “That’s it? What happened to being so upset about this a few days ago? Isn’t that why you texted me today? You have to eliminate two variables to solve that one.”

Ritsu nodded to herself, attacking the problem with renewed vigor. Just as Mio had all but decided that Ritsu was choosing to ignore her questions completely, she glanced up, a guilty smile of apology on her face. “Something like that, yeah. Pretty stupid, huh?” There was an attempt to laugh the whole matter off until Ritsu grasped that Mio had no intention of dropping the topic based on her intense stare, causing the drummer to cough awkwardly and continue. “Well, that’s the truth. I overreacted and made things worse, but you know now, so I can’t exactly do anything about it. Maybe I underestimated you. The Mio I know wouldn’t care about something stupid like this. Once I told myself that acting on how I was feeling was wrong, I was able to ignore it until it disappeared, so there’s no issue. Is this right?” she asked, holding up the same problem with barely any modification to the answer.

Mio sighed, snatching the textbook out of Ritsu’s hands. “No, I’ll show you.” As she worked, she tried to think of something to say to explain the conflicting emotions within her. “Isn’t shoving things down like that bad?”

“I dunno,” Ritsu candidly responded, frowning at the emptied bag of chips in front of her. “All I know is that I like Mio, and I wanna hang out with her. But, if I told her the truth, she’d probably think I was weird. In that sense, I didn’t see the need for things to change.”

Finishing the problem and sliding it back to Ritsu, Mio found herself agreeing with the drummer. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Flabbergasted, Ritsu fell over in her seat. Mio looked over the table to her fallen comrade, perplexed. It was tempting to offer her a hand, but Mio hadn’t seen Ritsu put the joy buzzer away yet, so that option was off the table. When Ritsu eventually sat up again, she was furious. “Seriously? This is the part where you say you’ll accept me for who I am. What the hell is wrong with you? And when the hell did we learn this in school?!” she complained, poring over Mio’s work like it had been written in a foreign language.

Shaking her head, Mio reached for a new drink, ignoring the irrelevant parts of the dramatic outburst she was witnessing. “I’m saying I do accept weird Ritsu, and that she shouldn’t feel like she has to hide some part of her because she’s worried about what I’ll think. She’s never done it before, so she shouldn’t start now. We literally learned this yesterday you moron.”

Ritsu collapsed against the table, defeat washing over her as she moaned into the deaf wood. “It’s not that I hid anything from you. If I had even the slightest inkling that you swang that way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Mou, it’s not my fault Sawa-chan is terrible at explaining things.” The comment went unanswered until Ritsu raised her head again. “I didn’t want to- hey, what’s up?” she asked, noticing the tears beginning to form in Mio’s eyes.

Just as startled as her friend, Mio hastened to wipe her eyes, but new tears replaced them almost instantly. _What am I doing? Why am I crying? It’s Ritsu. She’s rude and bullies me constantly. I hang out with Ritsu out of habit, don’t I? We’re childhood friends. Did she not see it that way? How long… how long have I not been looking at the real Ritsu? She’s so upfront about everything, I never imagined she’d ever be able to hide anything from me. I’m a bigger moron than she is. _“How long?” Mio questioned, letting her thoughts tumble out unfiltered. “How long have I not known how you really felt? Am I a terrible friend?”

“Shut up, idiot,” Ritsu interrupted crudely, placing a warm, crumb-filled hand on Mio’s head. “It’s the opposite. You know me. If I don’t like something, I don’t do it. If I didn’t like you or it really hurt to be around you, I wouldn’t do be here. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to doubt yourself. It just wasn’t something important enough to bring up.”

Mio knew Ritsu was lying based on her reaction when the truth came out, but she remained silent as the drummer continued. Ritsu gave her friend’s hair a tousle before retracting her hand, leaning back on her hands as she attempted a reassuring smile. “We make a good team. You’re the straight man, I’m the fool. When I realized how I felt could mess with that, I decided not to feel that way. The fact that I was able to do that should say enough about how strong those feelings were, I guess. I thought Yui might be going through something similar, but her thing with our kouhai is different. I can see that now, maybe better than Nakano can.” Ritsu raised one hand to point to herself and Mio in tandem, meeting Mio’s eyes for the first time since they started doing homework. “I like what we have going, so I’m gonna keep it going to the end of the year, then I’m gonna do what’s best for both of us. If someone like you sees fit to stick around someone like me until then, I’m not gonna be stupid enough to complain. Come on, cheer up Mio. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Don’t tell Satoshi I told you that, I told him the same thing last week.”

Half-expecting Ritsu’s little brother to come stampeding up the stairs, Mio had to focus to keep her head in the conversation. “You’re still talking like you want to split us up in March,” she pointed out.

“I don’t want to,” Ritsu corrected. “But I want to do what’s best for me before anyone else. That… includes you too, Mio. If you think you can come up with a better idea than whatever flimsy half-commitment you have, fine, but I don’t think it’s possible. Because of that, I have to be the leader I’m supposed to be for the band, at least until the end. Wouldn’t expect that kind of thing from me, would you?” she joked without much enthusiasm.

A strange sensation of warmth emitted from Mio as she took in the sight of her closest friend. She couldn’t explain the reason she chose to stick around Ritsu. She hadn’t had much of a choice in elementary school, but she could have easily distanced herself with clubs in high school or even middle school if she wanted to. _It’s because she’s Ritsu. She’s opened my eyes to places and people I never would have been able to see or meet otherwise. I wouldn’t have such a wonderful club or friends if it wasn’t for Ritsu. I wouldn’t play the bass if it wasn’t for Ritsu. _“I wouldn’t be Mio if it wasn’t for Ritsu,” Mio announced to the startled drummer.

Before Ritsu could respond, Mio took a firm hold of the drummer’s extended hand, two different types of callouses making contact with each other. Ritsu had time to give Mio a genuinely questioning look before the bassist yanked her into a tight embrace, allowing her tears to fall freely in the only place the drummer couldn’t see them. “I hate you,” Mio muttered into her friend’s shirt. “You think it’s okay to push me and the others away from you like we don’t care just as much as you do? Baka Ritsu.”

Ritsu, with some hesitation, accepted the embrace for a moment. The only thing Mio could think about was that Ritsu’s hair smelled like fresh snowfall. When the hug ended, Ritsu allowed herself to flop backwards onto the ground, facing upwards once more. There was a dusting of pink on both girls’ cheeks, Mio realizing only now that her implications could easily be misinterpreted. She rose and crossed the room to Ritsu’s bed, sitting down casually on it so that Ritsu could see her without having to move. “Listen. We’re a team. I’ll worry about the future, so you worry about the present, okay? I won’t force you to do anything, but I’m going to do my best to convince you that this is the best thing for everyone. Even if you disagree at first, I’m not going to give up until I get you to see things the way I do. I don’t want to stop playing with you all.”

“I do think we make a good team,” Ritsu repeated to the spinning fan above them. “No, a great team. I don’t want to break the team up, but I can’t ignore what my gut is telling me, or even what Azusa’s parents said. We can’t approach this problem as a team. I’ve been thinking about it for days, and it just won’t work in my head. It feels wrong, like I ate some bad sushi. It’s not just about us, anyways. Mugi and Nakano might not end up having the freedom to choose a university like we do, and that’s even assuming Yui and I can pass our entrance exams, let alone figure out what the hell to do with our lives. Slackers and single-track riders like us shouldn’t hold back people with options. Maybe that’s what it means to be a club president. I wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. It’s good and bad at the same time.”

Vehemently, Mio shook her head in denial of the prone drummer and her inchoate thoughts. Teardrops were flung from her face, some landing on the open textbook. “What are you saying? That we should just give up on the band? Is that all it means to you after all this time?”

“It means I’d rather see it go down in a blaze of glory than in smoldering cinders,” Ritsu retorted, dragging herself back into a sitting position. “Wake up from the fairy tale, Mio. We’re out of time to grow up. College isn’t the only thing we have to worry about. I don’t have a damn clue what I want out of life. I’m happy just drifting by every day with my friends, enjoying the present. If my future screws over my present, I find a new future. People like me don’t have a purpose in this world. We just exist until we don’t. You’re not me.” The last sentence had an accusatory tone to it, as if it was somehow a bad thing that Mio wasn’t a carbon copy of Ritsu.

What Ritsu’s words really succeeded in doing was shattering Mio’s logic train. The out of character self-reflection was enough to make Mio want to burst out laughing, so that’s exactly what she did after brief pause. She was vaguely aware that Ritsu was unamused by her fit of giggling as she fought to control herself, but the mere concept of Ritsu being so dour was too hilarious to her to take completely seriously. Wiping a different kind of tear from her eye, Mio gave Ritsu a knowing look. “I’m glad you didn’t confess to me back then,” she told the drummer bluntly. “I can’t love someone who doesn’t think they can love themself.”

Ritsu winced. “Harsh, dangerous queen. At least your insults are finally growing up.”

“We’re both growing up,” Mio insisted. “And if you think you can stop me from dragging you along with me, you’re sorely mistaken. It’s about time I took the lead in our dynamic.”

“Oh?” Ritsu noted, suddenly more bemused than she was contemplative. “Is that so? Well, I already decided not to run from my job as the club president. I put my plan in motion already, Mio, so you’ll have to pick up the pace if you want to do better. It’s been a while since I’ve run up against someone whose machinations can match my skill level, but you’re welcome to try and fail.”

“I can and will do better,” Mio asserted, standing up to physically pronounce her determination. “I’ll keep us together forever, just like everyone wants, you’ll see.” _It’s what I want too. I don’t know how, but I’m going to do this. Even if it means taking a step through an open door myself, I won’t allow myself to be paralyzed by indecision anymore, Ritsu. _

For once, Ritsu had no stinging rebuke in the face of Mio’s jaded optimism. “I hope you’re right,” was all she said, slapping her hand on the textbook in a meaningless gesture. “I’ll be there when you inevitably mess up. Possibly with a joy buzzer. No promises.” From behind one of her hands, Mio could see the joy buzzer carefully concealed, something Mio made a note to avoid the next time Ritsu tried to hand her a textbook.

In the meantime, Mio smirked. “Yep, I’m counting on you, baka,” she encouraged, reclaiming her seat at the table.

The words had a clear effect on the drummer. She blushed a little and looked away before regaining her composure with her trademark grin. “Okay! What were we doing? Watching a movie, right?”

Mio huffed, thumbing through the textbook as noisily as she could. “No movies. We have homework to finish. I need to help you so I can go home before mommy worries.”

“Mommy?”

This mistake would have been cataclysmic in the presence of anyone besides Ritsu. “Mom! You know what I meant.”

The jibes at Mio’s slip of the tongue received no response, and eventually the pair fell back into their rhythm as if it had never been interrupted in the fist place. This time, however, Mio felt much more at ease. Ritsu was clearly less tense too, making far fewer mistakes and appearing to actually enjoy herself, a fact Mio was grateful for. Despite this, Mio knew her task was incomplete. _Ritsu is still Ritsu, just older. You’re important too, baka. I want you to care about yourself the way I care. Perhaps I really haven’t expressed how I felt to her properly. I told her I’m not mad at her, but I didn’t tell her how I felt about it. Well, now’s not the time, not after all that romance talk. I’m sure she knows, but we can sort it out after we take care of college. I’ll get to the bottom of your hesitation, Ritsu. I can still meet everyone’s expectations. _

There were plenty of things Mio could have said as the hour hand moved. Perhaps, had she the courage necessary, she could have said them. Were she a bit bolder, she might have asserted that Ritsu was one of the more inspiring people Mio knew when it came to being social with others. A pinch more anger might have caused her to smack the drummer, insisting that it was the only way to get her to snap out of her stupor. Some vulnerability might have drawn out something about how Mio had actually learned more from Ritsu than she cared to admit, none of her lessons able to be delivered in a classroom. Even a burst of joy could have revealed that Mio was flattered that Ritsu thought so highly of her, despite rarely sharing it. Sadly, Mio’s logic withheld such impulses from her. The two worked on in comfortable silence into the evening, or perhaps it was the night. Mio only recalled that she had to get a ride home because of how dark it was outside. The sincere thanks for her help and the cheesy grin plastered on Ritsu’s face as she left were stamped into the forefront of her thoughts. Her last words stuck out like the first blooming flower in a field at sunrise. She’d told Ritsu that she needed to bring her entrance exam textbooks tomorrow, to which Ritsu had complained about the weight, saying she should only need to bring one of them. When Mio attempted to rebuke her, Ritsu had ended the argument with a single line and a slamming of the car door, leaving Mio to brood to herself for the night. She wasn’t sure why Ritsu’s goodbye had bothered her so much, not when everything about it by all accounts had been mundane. It was only as she stared unblinkingly at her night light from under her duvet that she figured it out. When Ritsu had turned away, she’d gone to wipe her eyes. The snow had long since stopped, and coupling that with her brisk goodbye, there was only one logical conclusion Mio could come to. _Ritsu, what were you crying about?_


	21. Home!

**November 21st, The School’s Courtyard**

Azusa Nakano closed her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could identify the individual snowflakes as they gently plopped onto her head. It was only barely past the freezing point, sleet mixing in with its purer cousin to assault the young guitarist in haphazard clusters of cold. Whatever it went by, Azusa wished it would leave her alone. She drew her burgundy scarf up over her nose, very nearly covering her red-tipped ears. No matter how she struggled, she always seemed to end up out in the cold for one reason or another. The guitarist cursed herself. Had she not been so neurotically specific in her directions, she could be waiting inside at temperatures humans were meant to exist at. Azusa opened her eyes to meet the stone orbs of the school’s founder. “Is this a good idea? I thought my stance on this was firm and now I’m already walking things back,” she explained uncertainly to the bust, a mittened hand brushing a bit of slush from its shoulder.

What few people were braving the cold to loiter in the school’s courtyard ignored Azusa. This was perfectly fine with her, though it made the past fifteen minutes droll on top of enervating. Had she the friend circle of someone like Ritsu or even Yui, she’d probably have at least been able to kill time with a passing conversation. Expecting Yui to be on time was like expecting shrine gods to thank you for your donations. Azusa’s focus on the front gate wavered as she glanced at the founder one more time. _Maybe I just like talking at things. At least Ton-chan can swim around. I wonder if you’re actually watching me, the way they say shrine gods are. If I had a shrine for me, I’d respond to everyone’s wishes. I could be the goddess of music, or guitars, or, ah, cats. Maybe not that last one. Nobody is going to ask for help doing their best to own cats. Well, if you’re watching, tell me what I’m supposed to say to her to fix everything. I chose to take responsibility, so help me take it already. _The irrational request went unanswered.

As Azusa seriously contemplated starting a fire to warm herself, her nickname caught her attention. “Azu-nyan!” Yui cried, cutting across the damp grass and tripping over herself in a beeline for her kouhai.

Had they been alone, Azusa might have at least considered being willing to tolerate Yui’s introduction, but the girl she’d left behind and the attention Yui was already drawing to herself moved Azusa out of the way at the last second. As a result, Yui found herself giving the founder’s bust a complete smothering that she instantly recoiled from as her cheek met frozen stone. “Cold!” she yelped, leaping a full meter backwards. “Azu-nyan, you’re frozen solid! We’re not that late, are we?” the senior fretted, unaware that she’d missed her target.

It was tempting for Azusa to deliver her traditional reprimand for Yui’s behavior. A few words would be all she needed to slip into Yui’s pace and end up never saying anything she originally meant to. It would also be foolish of Azusa to assume that doing so could in any way close the invisible distance between her and her senpai. “Don’t worry about it. You showed up, and that’s what matters. Ui-chan, did you need something?” Azusa asked politely, nodding towards the younger sister as she finished taking the paved route to Azusa’s location.

“Oh, when I heard you’d asked Onee-chan to meet with you this morning, so I thought I’d tag along,” Ui innocently replied. “Did you want me to leave?”

It was a loaded question and two of the girls there knew it. Doubtful leering in Ui’s direction glanced harmlessly off the younger sister’s polite smile. _Truthfully, no. But I suppose it was too much to expect that Ui-chan wouldn’t want to be around if I called a meeting with Yui after yesterday. At least this is better than her skulking in a bush somewhere watching us. _Giita’s impatient rhythmic bobbing back and forth reminded Azusa that a certain older sister was also waiting for her to respond. “Ah, no, it’s fine, Ui-chan. It’s not private this time, I just wanted the chance to speak with Yui-senpai before school today.”

Only after the words left her mouth did Azusa realize that she meant them. _This time. Yui’s confession should have been private. I suppose I’m grateful she ended up being there, but especially after the advice she gave, it doesn’t sit quite right. _“What’s up Azu-nyan?” Yui questioned, the chill keeping her hopping from one foot to the other. “You don’t normally request to meet in person. That’s Mugi-chan’s thing. Are you trying to build up your cold immunity too? It’s really hard.”

The expectant face of Azusa’s senpai raised questions the kouhai never thought she’d have a motive to ask. While the amicable yet guarded expression on Ui’s face was easy to read, Azusa wouldn’t be able to differentiate the Yui she was looking at now and the Yui of a month ago in a side by side photograph in her album. _She’s surface-level airhead Yui. So is the Yui from before the festival, though. Is it really my fault that things started changing for her, like Ui-chan thinks? Yui never made much sense in the first place, but now it feels like I’ve been staring at book cover that nobody bothered to open until now. Mugi-senpai says she still goes up to the roof during lunch. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t make things difficult for Yui or anger Ui-chan for no reason. No, wait, that’s wrong. I can’t continue to expect to get what I want by sitting around and waiting for things to change. If I want to find the truth, I have to actively pursue it. I have to live up to the promise I made them to be helpful by helping myself._

“We need to discuss the future,” Azusa informed her senpai. “I don’t want to hold anyone back any longer. I want the band to continue after you all graduate.”

Yui folded her arms and looked up, puzzled. The excessive winter garb Ui had probably cajoled her older sister into wearing meant that this action almost hit Yui’s face from Azusa entirely. “So do I. Did you find a way to graduate this year?”

The kouhai grimaced, the flaunting of an impossible roadblock like it was some garish new fashion trend that she couldn’t ignore nearly induced her to give up immediately. Too many long nights had already been lost to the same question. What drew a response from Azusa was the desire to leave that time behind, to see tangible progress after a brutal winter filled with meaningless plans to deal with the band and the Yui factor in front of her. “Of course not, baka. You really weren’t listening when I said I wanted to be in a band with you all. I’ve taken the issue of me not following you next year off of the table. All that’s left is to determine what you four are going to be doing. If possible, I’d like to have a band to come back to.”

A nuanced dance between one response and another occurred in the older guitarist’s head as her brow furrowed. She looked to both Ui and Azusa for help, but both girls merely reflected Azusa’s unasked question in their eyes. Though Ui’s relationship with her sister certainly had its quirks, it was reassuring for Azusa to see Ui was willing to elicit answers from the senpai when necessary. Whatever either girl thought or said otherwise, they both wanted to know what the senior planned on doing next year. “This feels like something Mio-chan should handle,” Yui finally decided, eyes training themselves on a point above Azusa’s head. “I don’t really mind what they decide as long as we stay together.”

It was this response that affirmed Azusa’s decision to press the main issue. “Your opinion matters too, senpai. There have to be some big dreams or goals you have besides the band. Wanting to make HTT a success is fine, but when it comes to career options, you-“ Azusa’s voice faltered when she caught Yui staring at her. “What? Is it something I said?”

Conversant eyes held Azusa’s words in place. She couldn’t tell what Yui was thinking and it bothered her. _Come to think of it, this isn’t too different from what she was talking with Ui-chan about a while ago. That’s not important, Azusa. Don’t let Yui distance herself now! _Before Azusa could finish making a plan, however, Yui erupted in a giggling fit.

Baffled, Azusa furrowed her brow as Yui struggled to maintain control of herself. She rubbed the back of her head self-consciously as she eventually managed to calm down. “Sorry, Azu-nyan, but I’m not that complicated. I want to be in a band because it’s a lot of fun, not to be a success. I’m gonna go to college if my friends go to college. If not, I’ll find a job I like and do that. As long as everyone else is happy, I’m happy. So please, don’t worry yourself over me, and don’t talk like you’re not always going to be part of the band. That would make me sad. You promised you wouldn’t stop playing with us.” It was blatantly obvious that every word Yui spoke was making Ui more and more nervous, a sentiment Azusa shared.

The kouhai and younger sister exchanged a glance that excluded the oldest girl there. _Was I really a fool for thinking Yui was so surface-level? Mou, nothing related to Yui makes sense any more. She shouldn’t keep talking like I can be around next year. Maybe that’s my fault too, for suggesting a date. I want to go on like this just as badly as her, but there’s nothing to be done. She might as well put professional pachinko player as her career path for how realistic she’s being. Mou. I can’t not worry about you, idiot. You’re the one I always have to pay attention to. _“Tabling that for the moment, I believe there was something else you two wished to discuss?” Ui prompted, unable or unwilling to push her sister on her future plans.

It surprised Azusa that Ui would bring up their date plans so casually, though the blush on the younger sister’s face and the hands shoved in her jacket pockets were clear tells of her real thoughts. Regardless of her intentions, Ui was absolutely right that the main purpose of their meeting was to establish a date time, Yui’s ability to twist any conversation she took part in having thrown them off up to this point. _And we’re left struggling to keep up. I’m still getting left behind. No more. _“I do,” Azusa stated clearly, wishing she could voice her full thoughts aloud on purpose for once. “As part of wanting to keep the band together, we need to discuss that conversation we had a few days ago, senpai,” she asserted, trying to ignore the fact that Ui was there.

Azusa could see the gears resetting in Yui’s mind as the guitarist’s default smile of incomprehensible levels of innocence returned. She dropped her hands to her sides, letting the light breeze drag them through the air as she beamed. It wouldn’t have been a stretch for Azusa to convince herself that Yui’d never so much as complained about anything in her life with the aura she gave off. It was this dangerous mask of deception that reassured her that she would always be able to serve an important role in the Light Music Club as the only person who seemed to be able to ignore Yui’s subtly manipulative side. “Of course, Azu-nyan! But I don’t want to upset you again. I really don’t mind whatever you have to say. Is that okay?”

Instantly Azusa was shaking her head. “Don’t start trying to deny what already happened now, senpai,” the kouhai retorted, placing her gloved hands on her hips. “Trying not to get anyone hurt would defeat the purpose. Don’t make things complicated by lying to me or yourself. I won’t be able to find the truth if you go about things like that.”

That declaration stuttered the flow of conversation for a moment. Azusa caught herself wondering if Yui had somehow frozen herself to the ground when she suddenly spoke again. “The truth?” Yui echoed, tilting her head to one side in unison with her sister. “What do you mean? I tried being honest already.”

Hurt bled into Yui’s tone, piercing Azusa’s thoughts as she attempted to remain objective. “I know, senpai. I meant for, uh, me. With how things are now, and how confusing that day was, I really don’t know what to think. So, I want to take the time to try again and find out. That’s okay, right?” It bothered Azusa that her instinct was to ask permission, but she couldn’t exactly rescind the question now.

Fortunately for Azusa, Yui was in an agreeable mood. “I told you I didn’t mind waiting, Azu-nyan. I think we’re special. But if you don’t want that, that’s okay too, okay? I don’t mind.” There was a blatantly obvious longing in the terrible liar’s expression, but her sister didn’t appear to be paying these warning signs any heed.

“So everything is fine,” Ui concluded, nodding affirmatively to herself. “Onee-chan is fine with Azusa-chan and the way things are now. We don’t need a date then, right?”

Azusa raised an eyebrow at her friend. She tried to ask her with her eyes how Ui couldn’t see the obvious inner turmoil on Yui’s face like someone was withholding the last cupcake just out of her reach, but Ui was a brick wall. _I mean, I shouldn’t let the idea that saying no would let Yui down be a factor, but I can’t be the only person seeing this, right? Surely Ui-chan of all people would be able to tell that Yui is lying through her teeth, right? I’m not going crazy, right?! _The questions returned negative results as Ui politely waited for a response to her presumption of events.

Yui craned her neck back to look at her sister, unkempt brown hair obscuring Azusa’s view of Giita. “But Ui, a date would be fun though. Ne, why don’t we do something on my birthday? Unless you guys are planning something already, eheh.”

“No, I kept my schedule open,” Azusa responded without considering how admitting she hadn’t planned anything for Yui’s birthday would sound out loud. In her defense, plenty of matters were taking precedence in her mind over selecting some bauble for Yui to ogle and then forget about the next day. “I might have to let my parents know, but I shouldn’t have a problem since it’s on Sunday. Oh, we should tell the others though, since they might have plans. Your parents, too. It’s your 18th birthday, after all.”

“They won’t be home,” Yui and Ui answered in terrifying unison.

Offput, Azusa took a step backwards, bumping into the bust behind her with a wince. Yui and Ui exchanged a look, both wearing sleet-melting smiles Azusa didn’t reciprocate. “Sorry, Azu-nyan. Oh, but that reminds me, did we do well enough for your parents? I tried really hard to get him to understand our band. Did you get the chance to play with your dad again?” the senior asked, swerving the conversation into a lane Azusa was completely unprepared to drive in.

The question prompted Ui to lean forward subconsciously, depressing the snow beneath her as she expressed interest in hearing a response Azusa had given her yesterday. It hadn’t occurred to Azusa that having two nosy Hirasawa sisters around at once was exponentially more difficult to deal with than having to handle one at a time. Allowing herself a moment to slow down her racing mind and think of a proper response was the right move, even if it led to Yui and Ui staring at her expectantly for far longer than was comfortable. “Ah, well, your antics aside, the dinner went well enough that they didn’t tell me to quit,” Azusa explained vaguely. “I was busy yesterday, so we didn’t talk much.”

A terse expression that felt too serious for normal Yui frustration appeared. “Azu-nyan, you shouldn’t avoid your parents,” she advised, sounding suspiciously like an older sister. “It doesn’t work. It just worries people. Don’t you want to play with them?”

Had Azusa known the answer to that question or any question concerning her senpais, she wouldn’t be here. Instead, she turned her gaze to the partially frozen ground. “I wanted to play with my parents. The people I live with aren’t my parents anymore,” she told her friends for her own benefit just as much as theirs. “That’s all it is. Our family changed, and I changed too. I shouldn’t dwell on things I can’t get back, and I won’t let HTT become one of those things I can’t get back anymore.”

Azusa’s words had a visible effect on Yui, the guitarist retreating within herself as if she was also suddenly remembering something. “I’m not sure I get it,” Yui confessed, not knowing when to drop a topic. “Your parents don’t seem that bad, Azu-nyan. It doesn’t make sense, but I feel like your father cares about you. That’s what I heard when you were playing with him!”

There was no need in Azusa’s mind to entertain the fanciful notions of her senpai. She was shaking her head condescendingly almost as soon as Yui started speaking. “You’re right, you don’t get it. You won’t ever get to know the way it feels to have people turn their back on you when you reach out for help. Nobody should feel like that, but that’s the way life is. At least your parents never being home means you never have to worry about them changing your life on a whim.” As Azusa processed the words coming out of her mouth, she made the effort to cover it with her scarf. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.”

Though Azusa had been the first one to fall silent in their conversation, having Yui and Ui return the favor still felt excruciating. The sisters exchanged a look before they both faced Azusa at once, impassive masks concealing whatever had just transpired between them. For all Ui’s concern about losing her sister, she certainly seemed to be much more in sync with her today than Azusa herself was. If the jab at their parents affected them, they didn’t physically show it. “Azusa-chan, our parents aren’t gone all the time. Even if we don’t see them often, they still support us in their own way.” Yui nodded along with Ui’s explanation, though less enthusiastically than she normally would. “I haven’t met your parents, but from what Onee-chan told me, and even based on what Mugi-senpai said yesterday, I think it could be worth talking to them about what it is you want to do in the future. Onee-chan is doing the same thing now.”

“They’ll reject it,” Azusa immediately refuted. “It would be pointless. I can’t present them with that plan right now after what they heard about your college plans the other night anyways. We’re better off making smaller, safer moves and building up plans to- nya?” Azusa’s explanation was annihilated as Yui placed a hand on her kouhai’s head.

The senpai brushed the sleet that had been accumulated in the kouhai’s hair gently, moving to her shoulders when Azusa attempted to push Yui’s hand away defiantly. The kouhai didn’t react to Yui’s ginger touch on her shoulders, instead waiting for her to finish her grooming impatiently rather than start a scuffle that would attract unnecessary attention. “This might sound selfish, but if you really want to do your best for our band, you should have the blessing of your parents, Azu-nyan,” the older guitarist advised. “I think they’ll be on our side. They probably have a lot of useful things they could tell us about bands, too. You’re strong enough to tell them what you want and then go after it. That’s how you want to win, right?” She squeezed her kouhai’s shoulder reassuringly.

Azusa blinked. For the briefest of instants, Yui had sounded like someone with good advice to give. This brilliant moment of clairvoyance eliminated everything except the two girls staring at each other, held together by Yui’s surprisingly firm arms. _Is this what they mean, that Yui can convince you of anything if she tries hard enough? _“I want to keep practicing with everyone. I don’t want what we have to change,” was all she could think to say.

Ui shattered the illusion that Azusa and Yui were the only two people in existence for Azusa by jumping on her sister’s impressive deductions. “Onee-chan is right. Why don’t you try talking to your parents and clearing things up before we jump into anything too crazy?,” she forcefully suggested, placing herself between the two girls and physically inducing Yui to let go of her kouhai. “We can bring up the band and date and the future again at another time if we need to.”

There was no hint of tact in Ui’s implications, but Azusa was less focused on that than she was on the idea of speaking to her parents openly. _Is that my fault, too? Have I just decided not to reach out? No, it’s their fault. This is different from Yui’s thing, even the band’s thing. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have them on better terms with me, especially as college looms. Maybe I can treat this like a practice run. _“I’ll think about it,” Azusa responded, unwilling to directly to commit to something before she had a proper plan in place. “But I’m not bringing any of this up. That’s just asking to get banned from the club forever.”

While Ui nodded in immediate relief, there was a flash of what Azusa could only call disappointment in Yui’s eyes before she hid everything behind a smile. Azusa shot her senpai a questioning look that was ignored. _What? Did I say something wrong there? Maybe she thinks that I’m not bringing us up because I don’t actually want to address it or hurt Yui’s feelings? No, even Yui should understand what I’m trying to do here. _Both sisters were nodding in unified relief before Azusa could force the issue. “Thank you, Azusa-chan,” Ui thanked genuinely. “I think this is the best for everyone. I’ll make sure Onee-chan’s future is-”

“Can we go inside now?” Yui cut in, shivering. “It’s too cold out here. I think my cheeks are frozen.”

Suppressing her instinct to call Yui out for her chicanery, Azusa stared at the cerise color on Yui’s cheeks to confirm that her senpai was full of it. It was only when Yui’s blush deepened that Azusa looked away, realizing she’d been staring with intent suspicion at her senpai for no apparent reason. “Ah, yes, that’s fine. We’ll discuss this again later.”

Ui’s own cheeks puffed up as she was ignored, but she went along with Yui as the senior led the two juniors into the school, apparently satisfied with the outcome. The trio held light conversation as they exchanged their shoes and dropped off Giita, discussing any topic that wasn’t relevant to the previous one. Azusa’s thoughts remained firmly elsewhere as Ui explained to her sister how to play chords she should have learned years ago. _I want to help Yui-senpai. She still doesn’t have a future plan. This wasn’t a terrible first step, but I have to keep moving. If I want nothing to change, I have to be strong enough to keep things how they are. _A fourth voice broke into Azusa’s thoughts as they approached her classroom. “Well if it isn’t my least favorite people and Yui. What’s up, classmates?” Jun greeted crudely.

Azusa frowned disapprovingly, but Ui was unaffected. “If you don’t like us, there are plenty of other people in our class, Jun-chan,” the younger sister reminded her friend unnecessarily.

Jun pretended to think about the idea for a moment before shaking her head, forwarding her comedy routine with her unknowing accomplice. “Nah, you guys pay for my food too often. I know when to accept a good thing for what it is.” By coincidence, Jun’s eyes happened to lock with Yui as she spoke.

The junior and senior stared each other down impassively, Jun’s expression unreadable and Yui’s slightly concerned, possibly guarded. Ui, picking up on the tension, subtly shifted her body to be positioned between Yui and Jun. Azusa had no delusions that Jun was interested in throwing a punch at someone, but Ui’s reaction alone was enough to cause her body to tense up as she waited for somebody to make a move. “You getting along well enough, senpai?” Jun asked Yui, her tone lacking the sarcasm Azusa had expected.

Yui started, ruining her image of competence by being caught off guard as her kouhai before she managed to scrape enough words together for a somewhat cogent response. “Eh? Oh, uh, yeah. Ne, are you…”

“Good to hear,” Jun interrupted, a salesman’s grin shining out of her mouth. “Listen, you take care of my friends. Ui too. Even if you are a simpleton, I won’t forgive you if you do something stupid going forwards. Ui, Azusa, let’s go, class is starting. You too, Yui.”

Before Azusa could call Jun out for her rude comment, she was already halfway into their classroom. Shaking her head to herself, Azusa started to follow her bull-headed friend before Yui decided she wasn’t done yet. “Jun-chan!” Yui called out, stopping the three juniors in their tracks. “I… need to ask you something!”

Taking her turn to be confused, Jun exchanged puzzled looks with her friends. Realizing that Yui was serious, the bassist shrugged and stepped up to her. “What? I’m a busy woman, you know. I got classes to sleep through.”

In response, Yui leaned over and whispered in Jun’s ear, denying Ui and Azusa access to their conversation. All they had to go off of was Jun’s sudden blush that morphed into an eager grin as she whispered back and forth with the senior. “What do you think they’re talking about?” Ui whispered to Azusa, evidently feeling just as left out as Azusa did as Yui started nodding enthusiastically.

“Beats me,” Azusa whispered back for no apparent reason. “As long as they’re not fighting, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Ui wasn’t fully convinced by that reasoning, but she didn’t try to interfere as Yui finished her conversation and shook hands with Jun. “Do it just like that, okay?” Jun warned the guitarist. “And let me know if you ever need help with something like that again.”

“I will!” Yui called out enthusiastically as she waved Jun off. “Azu-nyan, Ui, I’ll see you later, okay?”

Not being privy to what had just transpired left Ui visibly exasperated, but she joined Azusa in waving off the airhead and following Jun to class without complaint. Though both girls pushed Jun to divulge what secrets she’d shared with the senior, Jun remained tightlipped until the start of classes forestalled their efforts. As Azusa prepared for the day during homeroom, her thoughts began to waver from ways to make Jun talk. _Jun-chan was nicer today, if not secretive. Yui was the one who called her over though. Maybe the stuff she said about Mugi-senpai is rubbing off on the other senpais. She’s not wrong that Yui is a moron. She’s HTT’s moron, though. Even if her plan is terrible, we have to help her. Jun-chan and Ui-chan aren’t getting along still. Yesterday did nothing for that. Yui is still distant. Damn it, I don’t have answers and I just put off getting them again! _There was a glaring lie in that statement threatening to overwhelm Azusa’s logical thoughts, a shadow too long for the sun’s positioning looming behind her. _They want me to talk to mother and father about the band. It’s a serious risk, probably not worth taking. They don’t understand. It’s a waste of time to talk to people who won’t be honest. _Where Azusa fell on the spectrum of being candid wasn’t a question she allowed herself to entertain for the moment.

The most recent member of HTT found her studies plagued with morose musings as the day grinded by her chair. The sun moved and Azusa didn’t, her hands acting of their own accord to take notes that weren’t being processed in the brain. As she absentmindedly kept up with the lectures with ease, it occurred to Azusa for the first time that she’d never asked herself why she was here. For all her time spent espousing the importance of productive planning, she’d never given the future the notes she was taking were supposedly for more than a nebulous mission statement of success. That said mission statement could have been so radically altered in its meaning over the span of just the last week was a testament to its paltry nature. Her desire for success had been chained to an asterisk reminding the kouhai that said success was now contingent on four other people. The idea of such a restriction would no doubt cause her parents to scoff. When Jun and Ui attempted to approach their friends during breaks, it was only her parents voices she heard in her head as she nodded along politely.

_You think because your band sounds alright you can survive in the real world? If a guitar and a dream was all it took, we’d be living it up in a damn mansion. _

Takumi’s voice grated on Azusa’s thoughts, reminding her how unrealistic she was being. _That’s right. We’re talking about some of the longest odds I’ve ever entertained. But it’s not like I’m going to go into this with no plan. I can make sure we all go to college, get jobs to support ourselves until we can make it. I can win the lottery. Mou, think positive for once. Even if that’s not how it pans out, we don’t have to break up as a band. Why should I have to let go just because the real world decided this world isn’t real?_

Azusa’s thoughts circled back on themselves, a causal loop of logic forming to leave her head devoid of anything but fatigue as the day’s classes concluded. It was only when Jun nearly impaled her with a broom and Azusa had no other choice but to respond by hurling said broom like a javelin at the offending party that Azusa remembered she had cleaning duty today. The unfortunate third girl selected for the job shot several pleading looks to the retreating Ui that were ignored as Azusa and Jun started aggressively pounding erasers near each other. Both girls were determined to achieve satisfaction for some perceived slight on their honor that neither one of them would be able to explain if asked directly. In truth, Azusa was relieved to be able to sink into what felt more like a comfortable dynamic with her tomboyish friend. Though physical activity felt nice in the moment, the end result of coating her blazer in chalk dust wasn’t even close to worth it. Azusa and Jun had only just finished dusting each other off and coming to a truce to avoid mutually assured destruction when Ritsu burst into the room. The flow of foot traffic had long since died down, meaning the third girl in the room had been able to hear the senior’s rampaging footsteps well before she decided to invade the territory of her juniors. Her attempts to warn her classmates had failed, leading them to look up sharply when the door’s handle smacked painfully against the wall. Ritsu’s wild eyes were deadlocked on her kouhai, unnerving all three girls out of an initial reaction. Were it not for the fact that Ritsu was panting while leaning against the wall to catch her breath, Azusa might have gotten scared. “You! Emergency! Clubroom! Now!” The drummer managed to gasp out in perfect 4/4 time.

“Huh?” Azusa questioned dumbly, motioning towards the abandoned brooms on the floor. “But I have cleaning duty today. Can it wait?”

Ritsu took this reasonable excuse as a challenge, marching over to where her kouhai was holding the rag she’d just used to clean Jun off. “Listen here, Nakano. I don’t know what you did, but you need to fix your senpai before she drives everyone insane. No excuses, let’s go,” she growled, snatching Azusa by the arm forcefully.

Having no idea what it was she did, Azusa’s instinct vested on her by Yui was to jerk her arm away, giving her a pace of distance between her and her attacker. “Hold on now. What’s going on? What did I do?” she asked, attempting to remain calm as frantic instincts fought to control her. “Is everyone okay?”

Jun appeared by Azusa’s side at her questions, a knowing smirk growing as she proved to be faster on the uptake than the rest of the room. “You’re gonna have to explain,” she told the drummer, eyes glinting dangerously. “Azusa’s not smart enough to tell when you’re pulling a prank.”

The sardonic assistance Jun was offering was begrudgingly accepted as the third junior wisely pretended nothing was happening and continued to clean. “When my club members start dropping dead in the middle of the clubroom, I tend to get a bit annoyed,” Ritsu justified tersely. “When she starts whining that it’s your fault, kid, then I get mad. What the hell did you say to her this morning?”

“What?” Azusa wondered aloud, which turned out to be the wrong move as Ritsu’s glare grew murderous. “No, wait, I didn’t say anything that would make her that upset! We were just talking about when we wanted to meet up for a, um, meeting later!” she justified, barely avoiding calling it a date unnecessarily.

Ritsu wasn’t convinced, instead turning to Jun. “Were you there?” she asked brusquely.

Jun shrugged with a cheeky grin, as if she reveled in the idea of being useless. “Oh, I don’t know. She could be upset about anything. Azusa should probably go help if she’s calling for her.” The mirth on Jun’s face faded as she paused to think her words through. “Wait, that would leave me with her work. I didn’t think this through. Azusa, stay here. Nobody cares about Yui anyways.” As if it helped her case, Jun motioned towards their partner still slaving away without assistance from either of her classmates.

Fighting the survival instinct to keep her focus on Ritsu, Azusa turned a wary eye to the bassist. A certain conversation she’d witnessed but not been privy to had resurfaced in her mind, casting suspicion on Jun for her culpability in this turn of events. Ritsu, excluded from this realization, tapped her foot impatiently. “Whatever’s going on, Yui’s messing everything up upstairs and Sawa-chan might kill her if it ends up disturbing tea time. Look, I wouldn’t normally get physical, but I’m desperate, Nakano. We need a Yui whisperer.”

That title wasn’t one Azusa had any interest in holding, especially by the way Jun was clearly mentally filing it away for later use. Giving the third cleaner an apologetic nod, Azusa faced Ritsu once more. “I’ll go, but I need to come back once the problem is resolved. I can’t just abandon my classmates.”

“Eh, go on,” Jun waved off, somehow already losing interest. “We’re almost done. You can make it up to me by telling me how Yui did.” The third girl, unwilling to disagree after Jun glared at her, nodded encouragingly and silently.

Had Yui’s current condition not been pressing down on Azusa, she might have been more conflicted by the idea of being handed a free pass from her duties. She knew the odds that everything happening right now was a prank courtesy of Ritsu or Jun were high, but the small chance that Yui actually needed her help for something important drove her to pick up her bag. “Thanks, Jun-chan. I’ll make it up to the two of you later,” she promised distractedly. “Ritsu-senpai, let’s go.”

Ritsu was already halfway out the door by the time Azusa finished speaking. With a harried wave to her classmates, Azusa jogged after her senpai. The drummer was apparently uninterested in making sure Azusa kept up despite her original purpose, power walking with reckless abandon towards the clubroom. Somehow, the duo avoided being harassed by any teachers before they could make it to their clubroom, Ritsu flinging the doors open to reveal Yui’s prone form on the ground. Mio and Tsumugi stood uncertainly over her as Sawako sipped the only prepared cup of tea in the background without a care in the world. “I brought the doctor, step aside!” Ritsu declared, barreling towards the older guitarist. “Yui, Azusa’s here. Stand up or she’ll make you stand up.”

From the ground, a pitiful moan shattered Azusa’s soul. “Azu-nyan… get Azu-nyan,” Yui whispered, her voice hoarse.

As Ritsu waved her hands aggressively towards the Azu-nyan that she’d just brought in for her, Azusa took in the sight of the guitarist. Nothing appeared to be physically wrong, though she certainly looked unusual sitting prone on the ground, one leg haphazardly resting on the couch like she’d somehow managed to fall out of her seat. Averting her eyes from the revealing position, Azusa looked to Tsumugi and Mio, who only shook their heads helplessly. “She just dropped to the ground after we got here,” Mio informed her kouhai. “She keeps asking for you and she refuses to accept help standing up. Please take care of this.”

It occurred to Azusa that her senpais could easily make Yui stand up if they wanted to, meaning they’d chosen to make Azusa handle this. Whether that was their actual desire or just laziness wasn’t a question she had the luxury of time to ponder. “Alright,” she sighed, stepping up to take control of the scene. “This better be important, senpai.”

At the sound of Azusa’s voice, Yui’s head tilted slightly in the direction of her kouhai. A half smile formed on her open mouth. “You came…” she marveled deliriously.

“Of course I came. I was going to come whether you started acting like a moron or not,” Azusa stated like she was calling the sky blue. “What’s wrong? Did you miss lunch or something? I don’t have any extra food. You should call Ui-chan for that.”

Yui blinked uncomprehendingly. “You don’t get it, Azu-nyan? Did I mess it up?”

Folding her arms, Azusa nudged her senpai’s leg unkindly off the couch. “What’s to get? All I see is you inconveniencing everyone.”

A pout found its way onto Yui’s face as she tossed her head back and forth like a child that had just learned how to do so. “That’s not it at all! Mou, Jun-chan said this would work. She said you like fixing my mistakes. If nothing changed, you were supposed to be happy. My role in Romeo and Juliet was a waste of time after all,” the senior lamented as she ruined what was probably a well thought out plan from Jun.

A round of groans passed around the standing seniors. Azusa was inclined to join them, but she caught herself as she noticed the honest frustration in Yui’s expression. _I told her I didn’t want things to change, so she asked someone who knows me what she should do. This is Jun-chan’s fault. She told Yui to do this knowing that I’d come running if I thought Yui might need me for something. Mou, I did exactly what she thought I would. I’m an open book to that girl, just like Ui-chan. I don’t need you to show me that I care about my senpais, Jun-chan. _Making the affirmation real was the hand Azusa extended to her senpai, a rare kind smile on her face. “Let me help you up, senpai,” she offered, restraining herself from sounding anything but genuine.

The forgiving route wasn’t one anyone in the room, even Yui, expected Azusa to take, but the older guitarist took Azusa’s hand nonetheless. A jolt of electricity rocketed down Azusa’s spine as their hands connected, an unknown sensation coursing through Azusa and nearly confusing her into letting Yui go. She was no stranger to this hand, which made the feelings welling up within her as she peeled Yui off the ground all the more anomalous. Yui ended up being the one to let go first, brown eyes flickering between her hand and Azusa as she looked for a cue on what to say. Azusa’s fingers flexed into and out of a fist, grasping air for the power outlet they’d just been connected to. It was just another complicated reminder that Azusa needed to control her impulses, no matter how compelling. Snapping out of her reverie, Azusa nodded towards her other senpais. “I get that you’re trying to be helpful, but I don’t want to feel needed because you’ll make problems for everyone else if I’m not around,” Azusa explained patiently. “It’s fine for today because of Jun-chan, but I won’t forgive you if you keep making problems for everyone, okay? Don’t listen to anything Jun-chan says about this from now on. She deserves to finish cleaning duty alone for this.”

Understanding of a hopefully accurate kind flashed in Yui’s eyes as she saluted uselessly. “Alright, Azu-nyan. I’ll do better, I promise! I won’t let us change!” Knowing their looming conversation, Azusa found herself wondering if she and Yui meant the same thing by that statement.

Though Tsumugi and Mio were visibly relieved, Ritsu was blatantly annoyed from the seat she’d taken at some point on the couch. “Great, now Nakano’s domesticated too,” she grieved, tossing her hands in the air. “You know, you could take over the world if had a large enough soap box to stand on, Yui,” the drummer mused, staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Mio warned, pushing Ritsu’s arms down for her. “Ne, since we’re all here, why don’t we try practicing? It’s been too long, and I have some things I want to try out.”

Azusa immediately started to nod, only to freeze when she noticed Tsumugi staring at her feet, one hand gripping the bandages on the other, as if to conceal them. Making a snap decision to willingly step into Mio’s line of fire, Azusa pointed towards the table. “Actually, I’m kind of tired from cleaning duty,” she announced. “Could we just have tea instead today?”

The proposal drew stares like Azusa had just asked the band to rob a bank. Ritsu toppled over in her seat in a shockingly similar position to the one Yui had faked, eyes wide in disbelief. “God, she really is domesticated. Yui’s got her expressing her own ideas for her,” she commented, earning her a smack from Mio.

“I’m not domesticated!” Azusa protested, dropping her bag on the ground. “I’m thirsty. We’ll practice after tea.” Knowing very well that wouldn’t happen was a habit that Azusa actually found herself relying on for once.

As Azusa more or less expected, Mio was the first to read where Azusa’s head was at as her eyes darted over to Tsumugi for an instant. “Of course,” she muttered to herself before straightening out. “I’ll go, ah, get some stuff ready.” Apparently, said stuff was in the closet and required Mio to close the door behind her.

“She’s embarrassed,” Ritsu pointed out obviously from her prone position on the couch.

Ignoring Ritsu as Yui started prodding the drummer for more information, Azusa slid up to Tsumugi as the blonde was silently moving to begin her tea preparations. “How long until your hand is better?” she whispered out of range of the conversation the other two were having.

Startled, Tsumugi shot Azusa a guilty look. “You didn’t have to do that for me. I could have forced myself to play today if I needed to.”

Azusa smiled. “I want to help my senpais, Mugi-senpai. You shouldn’t have to force yourself. I’ll wait to push practicing until you’re feeling better.” It wasn’t much of an offer, but any gesture Azusa felt she had the power to make was worth it in her eyes at this point.

Tsumugi took a moment to blush, inspecting the teacup she was holding with healthy vigor. “Three days,” she decided, more like she was setting a goal for herself than revealing a medical fact. “I’ll be fine in three days.”

Taking the blonde’s word for it was all Azusa could really do aside from making sure she didn’t overexert herself preparing tea for everyone. By the time Ritsu had yanked Mio out of the closet and Yui had realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, Azusa and Tsumugi had tea and snacks prepared for everyone. Little was spoken, all five girls either too absorbed in their food or in waiting for someone else to speak to the current situation first. Azusa had managed to fill the gap somewhat by reporting the results of Saturday’s dinner, but otherwise the default setting at the table was polite silence. Three weeks later, the malicious shadows looming behind the band only lengthened to match the setting sun as nobody spoke up. Despite this gloomy forecast, Azusa found herself oddly optimistic. _It’s not the same as before. We can all clearly see what the problem is now, we just don’t want to address it. I can understand that. Yui keeps looking at me. The others were mad at her for causing a ruckus. Ritsu-senpai had no reason to get that frustrated with Yui’s antics today unless there was something else going on. _With this conclusion in mind, Azusa rose from her seat to get everyone’s attention, her shadow encroaching on the center of the table.

“I should probably get home,” Azusa announced quietly, praying she was reading the room correctly for once. “I don’t want to give my parents any reason to be upset right now.” 

Yui opened her mouth, what appeared to be a complaint on the tip of her tongue, but she closed it quickly. When nobody filled the gap she’d created, the senior pressed onward in a different direction. “So you’re gonna talk to them?” she asked, a bit hopefully. “I really think it’ll make you feel better, Azu-nyan.”

Having forgotten that facet of this morning’s conversation, Azusa’s motion to pick up her bag was stopped halfway through. She wanted to call Yui’s claim abjectly false, but the crowd of onlookers and her own hesitation prevented that long enough for Tsumugi to jump in. “I think it would be wise to make your intentions known to them,” she encouraged. “They of all people should understand the desire to be a musician.”

“It’s the opposite,” Azusa muttered, unconvinced as she turned away towards Ton’s tank. “They of all people wouldn’t understand wanting to play in a band and trying to make a living out of it.”

At this, Ritsu slammed her hand on the table like an overenthusiastic lawyer. “Hold it! Are you telling me that you, Azusa Nakano, have become so soft that you’re willing to let other people tell you what you can and can’t do with your life?” she interrogated intrusively.

The question drew out the indignation Ritsu was looking for. “Of course not!” she snapped at her accuser. “I’m just trying to be smart about this! I need to make a plan to talk to them and-“

“There’s no plan to make for conversation, kid,” Ritsu cut in. “That’s like making a plan for how you beat a boss in a videogame. You’re supposed to just feel it out.”

“I think you’re supposed to make a plan for that,” Yui interjected helpfully. “I saw Ui do this thing once where-“

“In any case, your parents already know what you want,” Ritsu continued over her friend’s story. “Tell them just like you told us. If things go south, we’ll back you up. I know at least seven ways to subdue Mio with drumsticks if necessary.”

The candid response drew out a feeling Azusa couldn’t describe outside of some lingering directionless sadness. Even her last sentence couldn’t hide the genuine offer the drummer was giving her kouhai. It reassured her that her senpais felt the same way, and that she wasn’t sure how much of a good thing that was at this point. “We’ll take care of cleaning things up today since you had cleaning duty,” Mio gently told her kouhai. “Why don’t you use the walk home to think of something to say? And please, call us if things get difficult. We want to help, even if some of us are terrible at it.” A glare at Ritsu and Yui made it very clear who Mio was referring to.

It bothered Azusa, seeing such cohesion from her senpais after staring at the shells they’d inhabited for the better part of an hour, but she couldn’t exactly refuse a direct request from all four of them as Yui nodded along with everything they were saying. “I… okay. I’ll at least try talking to them normally,” she decided, picking up her bag and guitar. “If that’s what’s happening, I’ll have to take my leave. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“We’ll walk home together tomorrow, Azu-nyan!” Yui promised as if it wasn’t a given.

Stopping herself from rolling her eyes, Azusa thanked Mio and exchanged goodbyes with the rest of her senpais. They way none of them rose to even think about leaving told Azusa that her prediction was accurate. It was admittedly difficult to walk away knowing the conversation that was likely to take place in her absence, but she knew they were just trying to protect her feelings, even if it wasn’t necessary. _Mou, Jun-chan. You made them all feel bad by preventing them from having this conversation before I finished cleaning duty. You’re getting a lecture tomorrow morning. _It only occurred to Azusa after she left school grounds that she wasn’t necessarily walking home.

The only thing that Azusa was walking towards was an exterior she’d just been asked to remove. Confronting the heart of the distance imposed on the family would mean admitting that the problem’s culpability was shared. Azusa knew this, and yet her pace lagged the closer she got to her parents. Ending the game she’d been playing with them meant losing. Even if they were right, the game they’d played had bred a healthy desire to never lose within Azusa. _But if I don’t talk to them, I won’t be able to move forward with my senpais nearly as easily. _Her only weapons a guitar and her cell phone, Azusa resolved to march as quickly as possible into battle. _I can’t pretend that I haven’t found a home I can belong in any longer._

* * *

**November 21st, The Clubroom**

Four students and one teacher sat around a familiar collection of desks that passed for a table. Their behavior was that of five strangers who’d happened to arrive at the same location at once to seek out privacy, all of them being too polite to ask the others to leave. Tsumugi’s tea was untouched by everyone except for Sawako, Azusa’s teacup resting empty in the middle of the table. An aching feeling had been welling up in Yui all day, now exasperated by the perceived isolation of the club’s unnatural silence. It was the feeling that had first inspired Azusa to say something when November started without change, the feeling that fueled the band’s agreements and arguments since then, and the feeling that Yui had been grappling with long before the curtain fell on their final performance. Whatever she chose to focus on, Yui knew there would be no fighting the waning sunlight reminding everyone that their task came with a time limit. The other girls must have had similar thoughts, involuntarily turning towards the club president to explain why Azusa had taken the band’s desire to do anything with her when she left. Leaning back in her chair, Ritsu frowned down on the expectant looks. “I didn’t call this meeting, Mio did,” she brushed off, hands behind her head apathetically.

Yui matched Ritsu’s frown, eyes turning towards a certain pink teacup. _Is this a meeting? All Mio-chan said was she had something to talk about before I carried out Jun-chan’s plan. Shouldn’t Azu-nyan be here? I don’t want her to feel like she’s not included. She can’t help us discuss things if she’s not here. Maybe I should call her._

Before Yui could decide whether to phone her kouhai, Mio rose from her seat and stepped onto the stage Ritsu had unceremoniously created for her. “Fine then. Ideally, we could have done this before Azusa-chan got here, but this works as well I suppose. I’ve proposed this individually to everyone at different points over the past week or so, but I’d like to do it once more with all the seniors here so we can make our plans clear. Next year, Mugi-chan is planning on attending J. Women’s University, provided she passes the entrance exams. It’s a prestigious university for women with a wide curriculum to accommodate those of us who don’t have clear career paths yet. We’ve all already expressed that we’d like to keep the band functioning next year. My proposal is that we all work to get into J. Women’s University together. This is the best way to work towards our futures without having to sacrifice the band, because I don’t think we’ll have nearly as easy of a time staying together as a band if we’re not in the same university. I know this plan doesn’t account for Azusa-chan, but what she does after next year should be her decision. We have to think realistically, and this is the best I could come up with.” The bassist sat down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as if she just noticed everyone was staring at her. “I want to know what you all think.”

“Do you?” Ritsu challenged without hesitation, staring at the ceiling. “Because you already heard what I think. I took the time to think about it, do some research and stuff. Yui and I can’t make it into a school like that without a miracle. On the Mio side, you’re stepping away from getting a recommendation from our school to get into a top university to play bass with your friends. Don’t do what Mugi’s doing. I don’t see how this is a good idea at all under your reasoning.”

Yui was instantly lost. She didn’t disagree with anything either girl had said at this point, but neither of them seemed to be thinking of their band as a five-member set. _Azu-nyan counts too. Even Azu-nyan has written herself off for next year. Are we just supposed to give up? When does the Light Music Club ever give up on anything besides practice and doing work? _Folding her arms unintentionally gave the rest of the table the idea that Yui was actually considering what was being said seriously.

Tsumugi took the opportunity to defend herself from Ritsu’s passive aggressive insult. “I know I made mistakes, Ricchan,” Tsumugi admitted, holding out her injured palm. “That doesn’t sully the importance of my cause. The time we spend here is just as important to me as my career. If you have to trade in the things that make you happy to live, life isn’t worth living.”

“That’s a somewhat drastic way of putting it, but she’s right about that at least,” Mio seconded. “We can easily get what we want without sacrificing days like today for good. Do you not want to be a band anymore?”

A snort accompanied Ritsu’s return to Earth as her chair stood on four legs once more. “Don’t twist my words. It’s a bad habit of yours. I already have a plan. I’ll graduate, get into some small college, be in and out, and get a job that doesn’t give me too much trouble so I can keep living the way I want. I don’t need any more out of life than that. I won’t lose touch with anyone just because I’m not at your college.”

“Bullshit,” Sawako declared to the table, waking up from whatever stupor kept her from speaking. “I don’t know what the real reason you’re holding back is, but it’s not that. You’re not one to give up on things you want.”

Ritsu scoffed. “I told you I won’t lead them somewhere I don’t want them to go. If you don’t want to listen to me that’s your problem.”

A long sip of tea from Sawako let Ritsu’s claim sink in. Tsumugi appeared to be the most unsettled by Ritsu’s declaration, fretful features exploring each of her bandmate’s faces for something to tell her Ritsu was joking. Yui herself wasn’t much more than puzzled. _You don’t want to go to that college, Ricchan? Or you don’t want us to go. You said you wanted to go to college though. Why is everyone making this complicated? Is this just another way being honest doesn’t work? But then… Mou! _A frazzled hand found the back of Yui’s head, scratching furiously in frustration.

“It’s because of that fact that you have to lead them,” Sawako simply stated, motioning towards Yui as she searched her head for an answer. “Yui, who’s the club president?”

“Ricchan!” Yui chirped, grateful the question wasn’t difficult.

Sawako nodded affirmatively. “Correct. Not you, me, or that turtle over there. Ritsu. If she doesn’t accept responsibility for that, none of you will get anywhere today.” Content to leave things at that, Sawako immersed herself in Tsumugi’s tea once more.

Acknowledging Sawako with a nod, Mio placed a palm firmly on the table. “This isn’t like you, Ritsu. I don’t want you to use me as a reason to turn away from this idea.”

Startled by Mio’s point, the drummer gave Ton a flustered look to avoid Mio’s encroaching stare. “You’re only part of the problem. This is for me, too. I’m not trying to say I’m happy with how things are right now. It pisses me off, but I can’t fix anything by pretending to be something I’m not.” Ritsu rose from her seat, standing over her club members as she heaved a sigh. “I’m not this club’s president. It’s just a title I took because I thought it’d be fun to have. Heh, and it was fun to lead everyone around when our actions didn’t have any real consequences, but this goes way beyond that. This band existed because of the Light Music Club. I want to break things off cleanly. It’s because I care about you all that I want to do that. It would be selfish of me to pursue more than that.” Amber eyes shone as they avoided meeting the gaze of anyone in the room.

Tsumugi glanced downward, contemplating something as Yui processed the blindside that was Ritsu’s words. Ritsu was supposed to be the leader of HTT. She knew that Ritsu cared, so to hear her essentially giving up before they tried flew in the face of what Yui understood as Ritsu’s character. _It was never supposed to be about whether we actually went to Budokan. What mattered was that we tried together, right? _

“If our selfish desires are the same, there’s no problem,” Mio pointed out. “I know you wouldn’t just give up like this. Take the book out, Ritsu,” she instructed, motioning towards the drummer’s bag.

“This proves nothing,” Ritsu argued lamely, yanking out a book containing study material for an entrance exam and sliding it towards Mio.

The bassist picked the book up and thumbed through it until she got to the page she was looking for. Placing the study guide on the table, she revealed a heavily marked page of what appeared to be test results, the numbers steadily climbing as one moved down the list. “This proves you have no intention of simply giving up,” Mio argued. “These grades aren’t terrible. With Mugi-chan and my help, both you and Yui could do this.”

“That score in the bottom left is Yui’s,” Ritsu responded, apparently having expected this as she motioned towards some scrawled in numbers. “I let her borrow this book a while ago. You remember, right Yui?”

Yui vaguely remembered looking at the textbook, despising every word she read, and rushing through a practice exam so she could get back to practicing on Giita. The score Mio was currently balking at was the result of that. Realizing she wasn’t setting the greatest example for herself, Yui rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Ah, well, I was kinda distracted that day,” she admitted. “And it was a long time ago! I’m probably much smarter now! That’s how learning works, right?”

There was an insulting amount of doubt on everyone’s features as Mio closed the book. “We’re not the band without Yui,” Mio determined solemnly. “No matter what it takes, we’ll get her grade high enough. What I do for college is my decision, Ritsu, not yours. Whether you work hard enough to come with me is up to you.”

“Oh, so it really is a competition, huh?” Ritsu asked nobody in particular. “Well, we’ll see what happens come exam time. If that’s what it takes for you to realize you took a bad risk, so be it.”

Mio pouted, her frustration at her friend reaching a boiling point. Tsumugi attempted to place a hand on Mio’s shoulder, but she was quickly shaken off. Yui wanted to say something to stop her friends, but she for once found herself at a loss for words. _I don’t know what to do. I tried to make them be honest already, and we ended up here. Everything was going well, and I messed it up. I don’t want to mess anything up._

Before a full-blown argument could spark over Yui’s silence, Sawako cleared her throat, reveling in her newfound moderator role. “Well, let’s make it clear where everyone stands: Keyboardist wants to go for a university. To keep the band together, bassist wants to get everyone to join her, which I’m assuming keyboardist supports for similar enough reasons. Drummer argues that bassist is lowering her odds of success for a dumb reason and that making your future decisions for reasons like these is reason enough to warrant breaking things off for good. What I want to know now is what the guitarist thinks.” Sawako brought Yui to everyone’s attention with a wave of her hand. “You’ve been relatively quiet. I’m sure you have an opinion you’re just dying to share, don’t you?”

Yui panicked as everyone was suddenly staring at her expectantly. _Eh? What? What I think? What kind of question is that? What Yui wants is supposed to be obvious. _“I just want everyone to play together forever!” Yui blustered, waving her hands in front of her defensively. “I can’t be Yui without the Light Music Club and my friends.”

Ritsu cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean? You had a life before high school, didn’t you?”

Yui thought harder than anyone would have expected her to about that question. _Did I? All I did before the Light Music Club was laze around the house and eat sweets. That was a life too, I guess. It got so much easier to be happy when I found the club, though. I still laze around a lot, but Giita is there too now, so that’s different. Having friends is fun. Is this a situation where being honest is good or bad? _Without a clear answer, Yui ended up allowing her thoughts to bleed out of her mouth. “I want to keep playing Giita forever,” Yui reminded the band. “If the band can stay together and keep having fun, we should. I don’t understand why it can’t be enough to want to keep having fun with everyone in the future.”

Mio folded her arms as Tsumugi tried to smile warmly in agreement with Yui’s explanation. “Well it’s a start of some sort, but we’re at the point where a tangible direction should be chosen,” the heiress explained to the guitarist. “Next year, in the best-case scenario, our band will have to get along as a group of four once again. Without clear direction, we’re in no small danger of collapsing entirely.”

Somehow, Tsumugi’s tone filled Yui with indignation. “We’re not the band without Azusa!” she burst out, startling everyone. “Oh, ah, sorry. But it’s true. She’s been with us ever since we became Ho-kago Tea Time. To carry on the name without her would be wrong.”

“We started this club without her,” Ritsu coldly reminded her friend. “But if that’s how you truly feel, then you’re on my side that we should go out properly sooner rather than later. We’ll still be friends, just not friends in a band anymore.”

Mortified by the very thought, Yui rocketed out of her chair. Ritsu was caught off guard by the sudden movement, scooting backwards as if Yui had just charged at her. “Of course I don’t want that!” Yui denied vehemently. “You don’t want it too, so why are you arguing for it?!”

“Because wanting impossible things is stupid,” Ritsu responded lazily, looking away to save face for her show of fear as she calmed down.

The table fell silent for another moment. Mio became self-conscious, unsure of what to do with her arms as she adjusted to the room’s mood. Yui continued to glare at a Ritsu that refused to give her the time of day, their stalemate stretching well beyond any reasonable length of time. Tsumugi ended up breaking the silence by clearing her throat. “Is it so wrong to go after something you worry might be impossible?” she posited, a finger to her chin. “We don’t know if we don’t at least try, do we?”

“Are we really known for achieving the impossible in this club?” Mio countered, eyeing the tea cabinet. “And in any case, what Azusa-chan does is her own decision. We’re here to discuss our own future plans. Yui-chan, Azusa-chan wouldn’t want you to not make a decision because you’re too busy thinking about her. You know that and I know that, right?”

There was no denying the truth in Mio’s claim, but knowing that didn’t magically tell Yui what she wanted to pursue as a career. “What should I do, then?” she polled the table, eyes downcast. “I don’t have any big ambitions, and I’m not smart enough to figure things like this out myself. Things are better when they’re simple.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing other people can tell you, and it’s not the sort of thing you have to be smart to know,” Ritsu corrected, still averting her eyes from everyone. “Just pick something you think you might like and go with it.”

“I won’t approve a career plan chosen like that,” Sawako shot down, suddenly active again. “You both should know that very well at this point. At least try to approach this like the adults you’re supposed to be so I can say I did my job.”

Dejected, Ritsu and Yui hung their heads. “Sawa-chan hates happiness,” Yui pouted. “Why can’t I just figure out what I want after I get to college?”

“Costs tend to accumulate the longer these decisions take,” Tsumugi kindly explained. “College choices are the first step to career choices. If you like, I can-“

“No,” Mio and Ritsu interrupted simultaneously before blushing as Mio continued for both of them. “Enough meddling, Mugi-chan. I want her to make the right choice too, but she has to do it, not us.”

Tsumugi sighed, looking down. When she looked up again, her gaze was far away. “I can’t understand the kind of problems you’re having. There was only ever one path for me from the beginning. I could look at other people’s lives, but I couldn’t touch them unless it was for personal gain. That’s how my family operates.” The heiress traced a finger along her hand wrappings, holding the room’s attention effortlessly. “When we first met years ago, I was looking for interesting people to associate with. At the time, that’s all it was. I saw you three as dolls, normal people to entertain me while I whiled away my time at this institution. As the years went on, however, I thought I’d grown out of that sort of mentality. I began to see you all as real friends, even as what a real family should be. I told myself I wouldn’t become like mother or father because I was friends with people like you all.” She paused once more as her voice got caught on itself.

Nobody dared to interrupt Tsumugi as she collected herself, smiling apologetically. “But… I can’t ignore my own behavior. When it comes down to it, I just treated you all like manipulatable dolls to get what I want. I’ve allowed my own desires to preclude what you all want since the festival. I just want to keep being happy with everyone. If I lose you all next year, I… I’ll-“ Tsumugi was cut off by a choked sob that she barely managed to control. “Sorry. But I can’t not go after what I want. It’s okay if you get mad at me, but I want to keep the family I want to belong with together. As long as I’m a member of Ho-kago Tea Time, you all are my goal. That’s what I want my name to be known for.” The heiress blushed as she verbally rejected her birthright, shrinking into her chair bashfully.

The heavy revelation sat uncontested in the center of the table. Yui could feel tears forming in her own eyes. _That’s what Mugi-chan thought? Is that a rich person thing? But Mugi-chan is so nice. _“We’re not your dolls, Mugi.” Ritsu told the heiress bluntly.

Tears were now flowing freely from Tsumugi’s eyes. Concern overcame Mio, and she reached out to tug on Ritsu’s sleeve, but the drummer brushed her off. “I know,” Tsumugi muttered. “I know, and yet I-“

“You’re my friend, Mugi-chan,” Yui affirmed with the utmost confidence. “Nothing is ever going to change that, okay? We don’t care where you came from.”

“I second that,” Mio quickly supported before glaring pointedly at Ritsu.

Ritsu returned the glare right back for all of two seconds before giving up and facing Tsumugi properly. “Well, I was gonna get around to saying it myself before you two moochers jumped in, but yeah, we’re friends. Don’t beat yourself up, alright? Everyone drops the ball occasionally. Look at Sawako. She hasn’t had a boyfriend in over a year.”

As Sawako harmlessly threatened to throw Ritsu out the window after stuffing her in a maid outfit, Tsumugi found it within herself to smile genuinely. “I… yes,” she agreed, wiping her eyes hastily. “Thank you Ricchan, everyone.”

Hearing Tsumugi’s confession had improved Yui’s mood slightly, enough to cause her to momentarily forget why they were there. By the time Sawako finished halfheartedly threatening to socially murder her students, she had decided to take the lead. “Well, that’s sweet. Time to get down to business then.” The teacher withdrew a familiar set of cards and pencils. “You know the drill. Take one of each.”

Nobody so much as flinched, all four girls thoroughly unamused by Sawako’s suggestion. “What’s the point of this?” Ritsu questioned dubiously. “I think our positions are clear. Are you just out of ideas?”

“I agree with Ritsu,” Mio supported in a rare moment of mutual understanding with her friend. “I don’t see what the point of writing things everyone knows out is.”

Sawako tsked. “Have a bit more faith in someone who’s been where you all are and humor me, girls. There’s only one way to solve problems like this when there’s no consensus. Write on that card what direction you want to take with the band next year. That’s for everyone, from their college plans to what you want the band to look like. No peeking.” She nudged the cards closer to the center of the table.

The clubroom was a still life painting, the club members unable to see Sawako’s masterful grand design. When Sawako grew irritated with this insubordination, she calmly placed a hand on the table. “I’m not going to ask again,” she politely told the girls with a smile. “I have the key to this room in my pocket. Tell me Mio, have you ever tried on a bunny girl outfit?”

At this threat, Mio snatched up a card and furiously began to write. Taking a cue from the smart one, Tsumugi and Yui followed suit. Ritsu, with much more pronounced hesitation, picked up her own card and started writing. Though she’d agreed to write something, Yui found herself staring uncertainly at the blank card for a while. It was a sight she’d grown accustomed to at this point, the same question she’d been asking herself for over a month requesting another answer. _Has anything changed? I still want us to be together forever. But it’s impossible. Even if I get everyone to stop fighting, Azu-nyan isn’t coming with us. Azu-nyan doesn’t know what to feel. I can’t force Azu-nyan to come with us. But I still want to try. Does that make me a bad person? Is it wrong to go after things just because they make me happy? It can’t be, right? I don’t want to go back to powerless Yui, so selfish Yui will have to do. Even if fate decides that everything would go wrong with this plan, at least we’ll be able to have it go wrong together. _Fueled by this blazing resolve, Yui scribbled out her answer to the question on her card in broken characters.

Ritsu finished first and made to give Sawako the card, but the teacher denied her advance. “Nope. Hold on to them. Don’t show them to anyone. If you show someone else in the band your card, you lose.”

Tsumugi tilted her head. “Lose? It’s a real game now?”

Sawako nodded confidently. “This is how we resolved impasses with my old band. When we couldn’t decide what to do next, we wrote our ideas down on cards. Whoever among the band was the last to show everyone their card was the winner and everyone else had to follow their suggestion.”

The four seniors exchanged looks around the table. “You know we’re talking about our futures here, right?” Mio pointed out. “Should we really be deciding things over something as stupid as-“

“So you’re saying you don’t have the strength of will to see your idea through?” Sawako challenged, a devious smirk on her face. “If one of you isn’t strong enough to make the decision for everyone, time will make it for you. It happened with your band name and it’ll happen with your futures if you’re not careful. Whoever’s got the strength of will to convince the others to show them what’s on her card will be the one with the most correct path. Am I wrong?” Yui presumed that Sawako was probably wrong from experience, but she didn’t feel like she knew enough to call the teacher out.

“Do you have anything better than cards?” Ritsu complained, staring at her own card. “This feels like something kindergarteners would do.”

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child I wouldn’t have to treat you like one, club president,” Sawako retorted. “I know what I’m doing. This is the best way to get you people to resolve the issue without me having to do any work.”

Yui frowned as the piece of the puzzle she was missing was given to her by the puzzle itself. “Sawa-chan, you’re just too lazy to help,” she complained.

“I don’t need to hear that from you,” Sawako fired back, rising from her seat. “It’s getting late. You all should get home soon. Do you agree to my terms or not?”

“Is there a time limit on how long we have to get everyone else to surrender?” Tsumugi asked ominously. “It’s necessary for my strategy.”

Yui’s mouth fell open in disbelief at the idea that Tsumugi was already so into this. _Then again, maybe she’s familiar with this sort of thing? Is that a rude thought? _“Three days!” Sawako declared arbitrarily to prevent Yui from thinking about it any longer. “I mean, not really, but don’t take too long. That would defeat the purpose and you don’t have a lot of time anyways.”

The four girls exchanged looks. Mio and Ritsu were having some sort of silent argument that excluded the rest of the band, leaving Yui and Tsumugi out in the cold. One thing Yui could clearly see in everyone’s eyes, however, was a spark she hadn’t realized had been missing since November started. Mio affirmed this as she rose to meet Sawako’s gaze. “I accept these terms,” she declared solemnly. “If that’s what it takes to get you all to see the best path, so be it.”

Discreetly, Yui looked at her card. _If I get everyone to show me their card and trust me, I can make this wish come true? _“Me too,” Yui absentmindedly announced, still staring at her shoddy penmanship. “I want everyone to play together forever.”

“Does that count as revealing what’s on the card?” Ritsu pointed out, suddenly interested.

Sawako shook her head as Yui’s face paled. “So long as she doesn’t actually show you the card, she’s still in the game. No dumb loopholes here. The most determined girl wins.”

Ritsu mulled over things to herself for a moment. “Ah, screw it, I’ll play. This might be the only way to get you all to see my point of view anyways. Hope you’re ready to die without ever knowing what my card says, girls,” she snarked. “I’m the best gamer out of anyone here.” 

Tsumugi shot up out of her seat. “I won’t give up either!” she professed, bowing like she was apologizing.

Sawako nodded confidently to herself. “Right, good. I have now successfully saved your club. Come back and praise me after you have a winner, but for now, go home. I don’t need one of you getting lost in the dark.”

The four girls nodded obediently. Like oiled machines, they cleaned up and put away the tea together, continuing as if the last conversation hadn’t even happened. Yui might have been able to believe that if she tried, but she couldn’t completely ignore the fact that everyone’s mind was now on one singular task. _This feels wrong. Everyone’s not sad, but we’re not together right now, either. That makes me sad. I need to find a way to win quickly to bring everyone together. _As Yui’s hand accidentally brushed Tsumugi’s, the heiress gave Yui a knowing smile as the senior apologized. _Right, Mugi-chan is smart. Mio-chan is smart, and Ricchan is a cheater. I can’t be lazy here. They’ll see right through me if I don’t keep my guard up like Mugi-chan did earlier. It’s another performance. If I win, I can bring this world into the real world, right Azu-nyan? _The recollection of Azusa reminded Yui that she had a purpose in agreeing to send Azusa off by herself. “Ah, Mugi-chan, Ricchan, can you two go ahead? I need Mio-chan’s help with some Giita stuff.” She requested shamelessly.

Tsumugi tilted her head in confusion, but Ritsu caught on rapidly as a result of her impromptu phone conversation yesterday. “Understood, private. Make sure she gets home alive. Mugi, let’s walk and talk. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your, ah, tea or something.”

Tuning Ritsu out as she immediately started making attempts to steal Tsumugi’s card, Yui focused on Mio as she watched Ritsu and Tsumugi walk off in disbelief. “The nerve of that girl. She just assumes I’ll say yes without even asking what I want, huh?”

“Ah, is this a bad time Mio-chan?” Yui fretted. “We can talk later if you have to stick your head in the freezer again.”

At this offer, Tsumugi and Sawako stopped dead in their tracks, having almost reached the door. Ritsu stopped too, but only because she was having trouble controlling her laughter. “Ritsu made that up!” Mio protested fiercely. “Mou, don’t tell me you think I’d actually try to freeze my eyebrows for no reason?!”

A hand found Tsumugi’s bushy eyebrows as she appeared to mull over the prospect herself. This inspired Ritsu to start cackling all over again as Sawako sighed and resumed her walk. Yui, oblivious to what she’d done, nodded in understanding to Mio. “I understand, Mio-chan. I won’t tell anyone about it anymore.”

Muttering angrily that she still clearly had both eyebrows, Mio seated herself once more with a huff. As Tsumugi dragged the still laughing Ritsu away with a wave, Yui took a seat herself, smiling serenely at Mio to mask her nerves. The two made eye contact long enough for Mio’s irritation to melt into discomfort. “Ah, you said you needed help with Giita?” Mio started, unsure of what to do.

Blinking, Yui realized Mio didn’t understand something she hadn’t had explained to her. “Oh, right. Mio-chan, I just needed to talk to you privately for a minute. I wanted to do it yesterday, but Ricchan said you were busy.”

Mio’s face quickly contorted in anger once more. “She stole my phone,” the bassist argued. “Even you should know better than to trust everything she says, Yui-chan.”

The guitarist shrugged. “I guess, but that’s not important. I wanted to talk to you about Azu-nyan, Mio-chan.”

Contrary to Yui’s expectations, Mio sank back slightly into her seat. The rude reaction threw Yui off, but she didn’t comment on it immediately. Noticing the mood she was creating with her body language, Mio sat up straight once more. “I’m sorry,” she apologized tersely. “But there’s nothing we can do about Azusa-chan. She’s a junior and we’re seniors. Even if you wrote down that we’d take her with her, it’s not going to change anything. I’ve been trying to think of something we could do to resolve that issue for weeks now, but I’ve found nothing. For that, I’m sorry, Yui-chan.”

It was no secret that Yui was deeply concerned about that issue as well, but her dynamic with the younger guitarist had a separate facet she felt the need to address first. Yui rose, wandering over to Ton’s tank to look at the small turtle. “No, Mio-chan, I mean about how I feel about Azu-nyan. This isn’t about the cards.”

This response didn’t ease the tension in Mio’s shoulders. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat like she couldn’t figure out how to use it. “We talked about this, Yui-chan. I warned you to be prepared to accept what Azusa-chan said, didn’t I? I’m just as upset as you are, but she seems to be interested in moving past whatever happened between you two. Did Mugi-chan tell you to say something?”

Drawing her gaze sharply back towards Mio, the guitarist glowered at her friend. “No. I told you that this was my decision, not Mugi-chan’s, didn’t I? Is it that hard for you to believe I feel differently about Azusa?”

When Mio didn’t immediately answer, Yui’s glare softened. She hadn’t intended to actually upset her friend, a remorseful expression on her face as she thought. Yui turned, her friend’s profile absorbing her entire vision. “You’re right. This isn’t entirely on Mugi-chan,” Mio told herself, raising her head. “That sort of thinking is unfair of me. She’s not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. If you have something to say, Yui-chan, I’ll listen.”

Relieved that she’d gotten her wish, Yui closed the distance between Mio and her, leaning on the table by Mio’s seat. “Well, what I guess I wanted to know is if you think I did the right thing,” Yui admitted, kicking her feet in the air nervously. “I can’t help but feel as if I made everything worse by being honest with Azu-nyan. She rejected me. I know you told me to accept it, but I wasn’t sure if I could. I still don’t know. Now she’s talking about dates again, but I’m worried that I let it slip that I’m upset about what happened somehow and she’s just trying to avoid hurting my feelings. She’s too nice like that.”

Mio’s hand found her chin, the bassist contemplating each word carefully. Before she found a response, she’d risen from her chair and taken several pacing laps around the room’s couch. Yui tracked her with her eyes, attempting to maintain a neutral expression and failing miserably as the seconds evaporated her hopes for a positive response. “Azusa-chan loves this band,” Mio eventually said. “Even Mugi-chan is saying you took everything surprisingly well. I’d be surprised if Azusa-chan managed to notice something I didn’t. Are you really that broken up about it? Do you want to talk about what happened?”

The mention of Tsumugi brought another old thought to Yui’s mind. _Mugi-chan definitely noticed. She didn’t decide to follow me to the roof for the past few days for no reason. Then why isn’t she telling anyone? Because of Azu-nyan? Wait, Mio-chan is staring. I can’t let her get more upset. _Noticing the turn the conversation was taking, Yui shook her head guiltily. “Oh, no, I’ll be alright Mio-chan, really. Don’t worry about me. I talked with Azu-nyan this morning, and she seemed confused. I don’t think she understands what this feeling is, either. I want to help her understand, but I don’t know if I can. All I know is that I want to be around Azu-nyan, like I want to be around you all, but closer. She has a weird way of making my heartbeat really fast, she’s really smart, and she’s as good at giving me energy as Ui is.” Yui’s list might have continued had Mio not stole her words with a shake of her head.

“Is this really the best thing for you to worry about right now, Yui-chan?” Mio cut in, holding up the back of her card. “I feel like most of your questions would be answered if you knew what sort of plan you were following for the future. I hate to say it, but this choice doesn’t concern our kouhai. Let Azusa-chan figure out what she wants and figure out what you want. I… need to think about that too. I might not have been facing reality properly myself.”

“That’s not how Azu-nyan sees it,” Yui retorted, resting her arms on the back of her chair. “And I don’t see it that way either. Azu-nyan is as much a member of Ho-kago Tea Time as we are. Whatever she feels, I know I want to keep getting my energy from her and the others. I can barely make it through school on my feet with you all around. How am I supposed to make it in the real world without you guys?”

Mio hid her face from Yui. “You’re going to have to learn one way or another how to be an adult,” she chided impassively. “And I want to help you, really. If you showed me your card, we could- “

“Mio-chan, I want to try to find a way to bring Azu-nyan with us,” Yui argued, patting the card stored in her pocket. “I can’t show anyone my card if they aren’t on board with that.”

The bassist sighed. “I suppose that leaves us at an impasse.” Neither girl spoke, the sun now almost level with the third story windows.

Yui rocked the chair she was leaning on back and forth as Mio stalled by one of the clubroom’s windows. It bothered Yui that she was getting used to the clubroom being quiet. It felt like the band hadn’t had a decent practice since the festival, and whether that was true or not, nobody could deny that their conversations had only grown heavier as the days slipped by. Unsure of how else to subdue the quiet encroaching around them, Yui sidled up to Mio by the window. The bassist didn’t react, not even as Yui got close enough to bump shoulders with her. The two watched the thin clouds rolling along out of their reach behind a lavender sky, a strange feeling of peace overcoming Yui as she absorbed Mio’s presence. Despite her technically being an opponent for the moment, Mio’s pacifying presence when she wasn’t freaked out or angry always calmed Yui down. “We’re going to graduate soon, aren’t we?” Yui asked the disappearing sun.

“Yeah,” Mio agreed, leaning in just a little more towards her friend. “It’s a bit sad, isn’t it? I’ll miss this room.”

The two fell into another silence, one both girls could be comfortable with. Yui almost considered just showing Mio her card and letting the bassist handle everything before she caught herself. _That wouldn’t help anything. I have to do this for Azu-nyan and my sake. I have to prove I can be an adult too. I wonder if Ricchan and Mugi-chan feel like adults._

“If I don’t give you credit for what you do for the band sometimes, I apologize,” Mio muttered under her breath. “No matter what I do, I don’t feel like it’s ever going to be enough to compensate for what being in this room every day has done for me. Sorry, that probably sounds odd.”

“No, I feel the same way,” Yui quickly agreed, nodding once towards Mio. “I wish we’d just stop fighting and agree on something, but I don’t want to compromise either. I guess that’s my answer, eheh.”

Mio bit her lip. Yui could tell that she was resisting asking a question they both knew how Yui would answer. Instead, she gave her friend a thin smile. “Azusa-chan might call you tonight,” she pointed out.

“Really?” Yui wondered aloud like Mio had just told her some interesting yet useless bit of trivia.

The bassist nodded pensively. “It’s not that I don’t trust Takumi-san, but something did feel a bit off when we ran through that song together. Nobody should be able to identify rhythm sections the way he did. Maybe I’m just overthinking things, but I think at the least he and Azusa-chan are both hiding whatever sort of history they have together. So, if she calls, do us a favor and take care of her, okay? I’ll do the same, of course.” She shifted away from Yui, a blush staining her cheeks over her conjecture.

Yui didn’t even feel the need to nod. “Of course. I won’t let anyone down!”

Nodding approvingly, Mio made for her bags. “Good to hear. In that case, we should get home. My parents and your sister will worry if we’re late getting home.”

Having completely forgotten about Ui, Yui went pale before retrieving her bags in record time. As they left Ton to guard the room and jogged towards their respective homes through the evening cold, Mio stopped Yui at the intersection where they parted. “One more thing, Yui,” Mio thought aloud. “I think… Azusa feels… actually, never mind. Forget I said anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, Mio left before Yui could ask a single question about the strange goodbye. The guitarist considered following Mio, but decided against it as she considered the ramifications of that choice. Even without the need to reassure Ui that she was fine, the day’s events had left Yui’s body in desperate need of rest. As she took off towards her home, she decided to pretend the sun was higher in the sky. Ui wouldn’t be as mad that way.

* * *

Giita was reliable, but even he got tired too. Yui could tell by the way his sound got caught in the wrong places, the slight missteps akin to a toddler trailing on unsteady legs after its parents. Of course, if the toddler was stumbling, it was because its parent wasn’t taking care of it. Yui traced her fingers over Giita’s body as she continued to play. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been at this one sound now. Idle curiosity had grown into fanatic obsession over the past 24 hours. “Would you be sad if I put you away now, Giita?” Yui asked her child. “I’d be sad. I think everyone would be sad. Nobody wants to be sad, they want to have fun. Being in a band is fun.” A frigid breeze ruffled Yui’s hair.

The sensation gave Yui pause. Wherever she was, there was wind. Since the dinner party, she’d been attempting to recreate Takumi’s song from memory alone. In all her time playing, Yui hadn’t ever run up against a piece that confounded her the way Takumi’s did. The spiteful song resisted any and all attempts Yui made at recreation, viciously tearing her ideas apart the second her fingers attempted to bring them to life. Everything after when she’d continued alone with Takumi during their quartet performance was somewhat hazy, but Yui’s muscle memory had fortuitously preserved some parts of the song for her. Even as she made progress towards a finished product, however, she only seemed to be able to get fragments of life. A gust of wind, a flash of green or white. Vicarious whispers from a time she couldn’t go back to had bothered Yui enough to devote most of her Sunday to the tune. Even as her hands grew weary with the rest of her body, Yui continued to play, some urge in the recesses of her mind telling her that she’d forgotten something important. “We’ve seen a lot of things together. I never needed to look too closely anywhere, since I had somewhere to go back to.” The dour thought of this no longer being true was shaken off as Yui’s sound wavered. “No, I have to focus. I’m useless if I can’t help everyone be happy. This is just a distraction.”

Whether it was true or not, Yui continued to throw herself into the piece. Sitting cross legged, she closed her eyes and focused on one of the parts of the song that still didn’t sound right. Without visual stimulus, she could pretend she was on the school’s roof, alone with her thoughts. Taking Tsumugi’s advice had been a double-edged sword. On one hand, the opportunity to clear her head as the complications of the day grew more difficult to understand as they compounded on each other was helpful. On the other, when Yui was alone she was reminded of the future her graduation suggested for her, forcing her to take refuge in frivolous thoughts or music. “Why should I have to accept that? I want a future where we all play together. Where I can be with Azu-nyan. What’s so great about the real world if it isn’t any fun?” The howling wind had no discernable answer.

Frustration washed over the girl’s mind, her fists clenching as her guitar hung limply around her neck. The sound didn’t fade, nor did the howling of the wind carrying whispers she’d never heard before. It was as Yui made one final adjustment that a presence she recognized appeared in her mind. The presence startled Yui, but she didn’t stop playing. “This isn’t your song,” Yui told the girl who’d appeared in the empty space behind her. “Don’t waste your time here. There’s nothing happening here.”

_You asked me to be here_ Azusa replied silently, raising her hands as if to grasp the wind. _Didn’t you want us to be in a band together?_

Yui frowned at the mute girl, rising slowly enough to give Azusa time to smile knowingly at her. She wasn’t sure who was making Azusa appear, her or Giita, but in the moment, she didn’t care enough to think about it. “Azu-nyan, I don’t understand you. I tried to do what you wanted. I tried to get close to you, because I thought that’s what you wanted, but you pushed me away. Now you’re telling me you don’t know for sure. When I told you to take your time, I didn’t realize that everyone wanted to make a decision now, and I can’t take my word back. There’s my card, but I don’t know if I can convince them to help me find a way to keep you in the band next year without their energy. I feel powerless against fate. Why doesn’t following my feelings work anymore?”

Azusa tsked silently. _Silly senpai. It does work. Other people just need to learn how to listen. _She tilted her head playfully as her guitar appeared in front of her. _This is me, right?_

Yui tried to answer affirmatively, but her voice failed her. The Azusa in front of her began to fail as well, fading out as the song dropped into the unceremonious halt Yui had worked it up to. Groaning in frustration, Yui rubbed the back of her head as she collapsed backwards onto her bed in her room. She couldn’t prove it, but she was almost certain she’d now mastered most of Takumi’s song. The issue was she had no way to complete a part she couldn’t remember. Letting the last of the song’s world crumble, Yui’s eyes flitted to her desk. Her homework lay in several scattered pieces, the notecard she was to protect with her life lying on top of it like a crimson knife. The rest of her room wasn’t in much better shape, nothing immune to the guitar rhapsody that was the last hour or so. Yui frowned as she flexed her aching fingers. _It’s getting harder and harder not to think about it. Going onto the roof and playing this long isn’t helping as much. Azu-nyan still shows up. I still have to make a choice. _

What she wanted was impossible. She’d been told by Mio as such and more or less admitted it to herself earlier today. Despite this, some inane part of her told her that, if she managed to hold on to her desire longer than everyone else, she’d miraculously be able to keep Azusa around with the band longer. Ritsu would help her pull pranks again. Tsumugi would have a smile on her face when she served tea. Mio could laugh at one of Ritsu’s jokes. Azusa would eat tea and cake with them forever. Yui wouldn’t have to worry about running out of energy. The guitarist’s gaze was drawn to the nearby open entrance exam book on her white table. She had trouble completing more than a page or two per day, an abysmal pace given her goals, but the mere thought of preparing for a future like the one the book promised would always cause her head to turn away. Knowing she’d have to face graduation and picking her head up to do so were two different songs, one of which was much more difficult to play than the other. It certainly didn’t help that some of her desires were seemingly contradictory, thanks to a certain kouhai.

“I can’t pretend forever, everyone,” Yui told band members that weren’t around. “It’s too hard. I’d rather just take a nap. I promise I’ll try to grow up. I won’t rely on you forever if we can just stay together. Would you forgive me then, if I tried to get what I wanted one more time?” The answer to that question was so obvious a month ago.

It was a well-worn cycle. Yui messes up, the band scolds her, they fix the problem together and become closer, repeat. Then the cultural festival happened, and suddenly everyone had gotten bored and decided to grow up. It was sort of funny, having the tactic she’d employed so many times to get out of things she’d lost interest in used on her. None of her friends seemed to remember why they formed a band in the first place, Yui herself beginning to wonder if she had any deeper meaning to picking up the guitar she’d forgotten. “If that’s the change they’re going through, I don’t need it,” Yui told Giita. “Ne, does that mean I’m the only one not growing up or changing?” Yui asked with a touch of nervousness.

In response, Yui’s phone blared to life. Mio’s words of warning rang in Yui’s ears louder than her phone. Optimistically curious, Yui set Giita aside and retrieved the device from her nightstand, her heart skipping a beat as she read the last name on the caller id. “Azu-nyan?” Yui answered hopefully.

“Sorry, we stopped making those about 17 years ago. I can send you the last one we made if you’re still interested,” came a voice that was distinctly male.

Yui blinked for a few seconds, processing the mistake she’d just made addressing this man. “Ah, sorry, sir, I think I have the wrong number. Have a good evening.”

“Wait!” The man cried, stalling Yui’s thumb as she tried to hang up. “You can’t have the wrong number if I called you! And also I’m Takumi! Do you not recognize the voice of someone you met two days ago?”

It had struck Yui as strange that she had seen the word Nakano and not heard Azusa when she picked up the phone. Only with Takumi’s explanation, however, did the pieces slowly begin to pull themselves together for her. “Is it rude to say yes?” she asked Takumi, genuinely uncertain.

A sigh sent a breeze through the receiver and impossibly rustled the hair on Yui’s head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I thought I’d call you to let you know our daughter should be on our way to you. I need you to watch over her for a few days, if you don’t mind.”

Cold realization crept up on Yui as she recalled Azusa’s parting words. “What did you say to her?” she accused, feeling unnaturally angry as Takumi’s song started to play in her mind.

There was static on the other end, then a more serious tone as Takumi dropped the pretenses he’d established. “Something we should have said years ago,” he admitted, pausing. “The rest you can get from her. Take as long as you need, but be certain that both you and her are prepared for what comes next after she gets back.”

Yui would have replied, but a sharp tone on the other end and a cry of pain from Takumi confused the guitarist out of talking. “Okay, okay, I got it! Damn, that’s gonna leave a bruise. Ah, my wife says hi. Also she wants me to tell you that she’ll kill you if something happens to her baby while she’s gone. And to call her frequently with updates on her health, make sure she’s eating enough, give her water, or something along those lines. Just do what you would do for a cat and it’ll probably be fine. Is that good enough? What do you mean no? I’m trying to-“ Takumi’s voice cut out again as he started an argument with Rin that neither participant seemed to care that Yui could hear.

The guitarist sat down hard on her bed, steam rising from her head. Things were happening too fast for Yui to process. “Azu-nyan needs help?” she asked, gears spinning in her head like film reels.

Scuffling sounds rang out over the line, then Takumi managed to gain control of the phone long enough to respond. “If you want to put it that way, yes. Loathe as I am to say it, if we force her to come back, it’ll just make things worse. Think you can do us a favor, guitarist?”

Though Yui was uncertain of whether this was the right move, the alluring concept of having a defined purpose drove her response. “I’ll do it,” she responded empathetically. “I’ll take care of Azusa for you.”

Perhaps it was Yui’s imagination, but she could swear the weight of her cell phone became lighter the second she agreed. “Excellent. I’ll leave it to you then. Don’t stop playing, alright?” Only after the man had hung up did it occur to Yui that she wasn’t breathing.

The guitarist took in a massive breath of air, calming herself. _Alright. Okay. Azu-nyan is coming over for a few days. Why? Does it matter? No, not right now. Azu-nyan needs help. Nothing is more important than making sure my friends are okay. I want to be a good senpai, like she wants me to be, if nothing else._

These thoughts in mind, Yui exited her room, absentmindedly taking her guitar with her. Takumi hadn’t stated when Azusa would be arriving, nor technically whether she’d be arriving at all. Whether he was lying or not wasn’t as important as Yui’s desire for Azusa to trust her enough to lean on her when she needed to. As Yui passed the kitchen, her sister called out to her. “Onee-chan, where are you going with your guitar this late? It’s almost dinner time!”

Yui paused long enough to smile back at her sister. Ui had certainly given her an earful when she got home, but she understood her sister well enough to know when she needed a break. The younger girl was just another reason Yui felt like she had to be stronger, to give back some of the energy she’d taken over all these years. “Ui, make enough for three people. Azu-nyan is going to stay with us for a few days.”

There was silence as Ui stared blankly at her sister. Emotions Yui had never seen before on her sister flew across her face. Had she the luxury of time, Yui might have reveled in this new discovery longer, but the only thing she could focus on at the moment was making sure her kouhai was alright. In turn, Ui was searching her sister’s face, likely checking for some indication that the older girl was kidding. Unable to find anything of the sort, Ui resorted to interrogation. “Onee-chan, what are you talking about. Why would Azusa-chan of all people do something like that without at least telling me first? Mou, she doesn’t even know if our parents are home or not. What about her parents, for that matter?”

Yui shrugged, every moment she wasn’t at the front door making her increasingly antsy. “I dunno. Takumi-san called me and said he needed my help and to let Azu-nyan stay over. Sorry, but do you mind, Ui? Please, I want to be helpful for Azu-nyan.”

Ui allowed the spatula she was holding to come to a rest next to the stove. Whatever she was thinking about, it was enough to make Yui anxious. Her sister usually only thought things through when she was trying to come up with a way to say no that didn’t hurt Yui’s feelings. “I don’t know, Onee-chan. This is really sudden. Especially with how you and Azusa-chan have been behaving, I don’t think-“ Ui’s explanation was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Both girls stared at the stairs leading to the first floor. Yui’s first instinct was to run for the door, but consideration for Ui stopped her from moving. “Are you not okay with Azu-nyan being here right now?” Yui asked, candid eyes searching for a response. “If you aren’t, I’ll tell her to go to someone else’s house.”

“It’s not that,” Ui defended. “It’s just, ah, I suppose I’m taken aback by how sudden everything is. Things are moving really fast. I’m worried that you might make a mistake because of that. I don’t want you to try to rush out of here without me, if that makes any sense.”

The only person in the world who could stop Yui from rushing down the stairs succeeded in her mission. Yui crossed the room quickly, snatching her younger sister up in a fierce embrace. “I want to grow up, but I never want to stop needing my Ui,” Yui whispered into her closest friend’s ear. “You’re my family, Ui. We promised it would always be the two of us, right?”

Though she was startled at first, Ui recovered quickly enough to return her sister’s gesture. “I… you’re right, Onee-chan. Sorry. I’m being paranoid.” When the two separated, Ui’s eyes were beginning to water. “It’s always going to be the two of us.”

Satisfied that she’d appeased her younger sister, Yui took Ui’s free hand and started towards the stairs. “Great! Let’s go get Azu-nyan!” she cheered, tugging Ui forward.

Though she did little to help, Ui didn’t resist as Yui pulled her down to the front door over a second, more tentative round of knocking echoing throughout the house. Yui yelled that she was coming as she took the stairs two at a time, coming to a rest at the bottom as Ui struggled to keep up. When she was sure that her sister was behind her, Yui flung the door open to reveal her only kouhai. Azusa didn’t even get the chance to finish opening her mouth to explain herself before Yui had tackled her in a hug. “Azu-nyan, welcome home!”


	22. Detective!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Azusa.

**November 22nd, 7:15 AM**

The Nakano household had a simple routine for weekday mornings. First, the front door would open to let the house’s owner out for his morning run. By the time he came back, his wife would have his breakfast ready along with a complaint or two about having to get up at the same early time she’d arisen for years. He’d shower and get dressed, eat briskly, then check on his daughter and leave before the girl’s alarm woke her up to start the process herself. It wasn’t a hard law of the ecosystem that was the Nakano household, exceptions weaving their way into daily life as with any other long-standing tradition, but the three Nakanos had always eventually returned to the system they were familiar with despite never verbally acknowledging it. To have the harmonic cycle so unceremoniously broken with no promise of reparation was having just as much of an impact on the house as its owners. The abandoned alarm clock cried out for its departed master, a fatalistic wail that drowned the room in the sort of regret only a warning delivered too late could. Any other day would see the duvet next to this alarm clock shift, then recede to allow a groggy hand to exact justice on the head of the servant doing its job. Of course, there was nobody to wake up today. Instead, the calloused hand of the house’s owner gently reset the timer on the alarm clock, letting his fingers rest contemplatively on the snooze button. He could feel the indentations caused by years of mistreatment as he silenced the device gently. In a way, these indents was comforting, a reminder this room still had an owner. Takumi brought a free hand to his chin as his gaze swept the dim room, illuminated only by the partially open blinds by the bed. Most of the drawers hung open, swathes of clothing missing or scattered on the floor in haphazard categorizations of things worth and not worth stealing away into the night with. The dresser and desk were not spared in this culling, many trinkets Takumi had watched accumulate over the years suddenly disappearing like they’d never existed to begin with. Only the corner of the room where Azusa stored her guitar effects was completely barren, something Takumi expected yet still found himself oddly disappointed by, as if Azusa was denying him the right to keep any important part of her with him in addition to leaving. As the man paced over to the desk to inspect the wall for damages from removing the photos, a forgotten image caught his eye. Kneeling down, Takumi picked up the picture he recalled holding only a few days ago, his smiling daughter shining in the middle of her band. “You can’t seem to stay in one place, can you?” he asked the image rhetorically.

Inspecting it, Takumi took a hard look at the band his daughter was so enamored with. Pushing aside the question of why Azusa didn’t bother taking this photo, his own youth called out to him through the eyes he’d passed down to his daughter. _They still don’t seem like bad kids. Maybe things would be easier if they were. Then again, we wouldn’t have been able to let her go in that case. When was the last time she smiled like this at home? Maybe it was this week. I wouldn’t know, would I? _In a foolhardy attempt to contradict himself, several antiquated examples rushed through the man’s head.

Knitting his eyebrows, Takumi folded the picture in half. He had no right to be selective in the friend group his daughter chose, so long as they weren’t out and out criminals. _That was part of the deal. We agreed that we wanted her to be successful. I hope we didn’t take away her ability to determine what that word means in the process. No, things will work out. If she didn’t think we were on her side, she wouldn’t have left. It’s because she understands that we can’t be on her side in the way she wants that she ran. She’ll understand that this is for the best, hopefully after I do. Mou. You’d think with all the time we have to stay apart this would hurt less. _Slipper footfalls drew Takumi’s attention to the door.

Rin blinked away sleep she hadn’t gotten the night before, eyeing the silent alarm clock while leaning heavily on the doorframe. “You got it?” she mumbled groggily.

Takumi grinned to himself. Waking up an hour before his wife certainly had its low days, but this was one of the benefits. “Nah, I just wanted to come in here and appreciate the dulcet tones of ear-shattering screech in B flat,” he cheekily responded. “Are you a music aficionado too?”

“Har har. I’m tired, not senile,” Rin grumbled, yawning as she took the ransacked room in under the morning light. “She really cleaned the place out, huh? It’s like she left before we even got the chance to start packing for her. Maybe she was planning this under our noses.”

The father nodded along with Rin’s impossible proposal. They both knew Azusa had no such plans in mind, but thinking that way was somehow more comforting, like their actions had less culpability tacked onto them. In his absentminded mulling over this idea, Takumi found himself seated at his daughter’s desk. The sheet music he’d borrowed several times in those valuable moments before Azusa awakened were curiously still on her desk. “If you’re able to talk like that, you’re either truly insane or you’re feeling better,” he deduced, sifting through the sheet music carefully. “So, you feeling any better?”

Rin scoffed, nearly collapsing backwards as she attempted to stand up straight in a show of bravado. “Oh please. You’re the one who was holding back tears last night. Just because I’m a nervous wreck doesn’t mean I have to show it. The only thing bothering me is we have to rely on that girl and her band to set our daughter’s head right.” Her tired gaze found the floor. “Makes me feel like we failed her.”

Though a traitorous part of Takumi agreed with that sentiment, he knew better than to voice his anxieties aloud given his wife’s vulnerable mental state. “I was crying because you smacked me in the head. That hurt you know,” he complained, rubbing his forehead to change the subject. “And you shouldn’t think like that. If things had stayed the same then, we’d have failed her. If we’d continued to remain aloof to the situation and waited until the last minute, we’d have failed her. This is her chance to figure out what she wants to do, and we can’t make that decision for her. When she’s ready, we’ll carry her wherever she wants to go. It’s because we want to do that that we haven’t failed her. And, if we’re lucky, she’ll be the one coming back to us when it’s all said and done, guitar in hand. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyways.” Had he not been crafting that speech for himself all night, Takumi wasn’t sure if he would have known how to respond himself.

There was a snort from Rin. “You’re annoying when you’re right,” she complained. “I don’t need you to remind me what we’re doing here. Just because you expect a shot to hurt doesn’t mean the pain goes away. You can be upset with me, you know.”

“Mou, you must find me annoying all the time then,” he snarked as Rin finally began to wake up. “But I appreciate you sticking around anyways.”

Rin flashed a pearly white smile that lit up the dim room. “Now you’re catching on. Did she leave anything important behind? We can send it to her through a friend or something. Let her know we’re paying attention.” The mother began to riffle through what scraps her daughter had left behind, searching for any notable items of importance.

Takumi thumbed the photo between his fingers, but ultimately left it concealed in his pocket. “I don’t think so. The best we can do for now is keep an eye on her until she reaches out on her own. Ui-san contacted us and said she had everything under control, remember? If you trust our daughter’s word, she’s as reliable as it gets.”

“I still hate that we’re exclusively on the receiver end of this telephone,” Rin bemoaned, stalking over to Azusa’s bedside. “We should have found another way, made her stay here. This whole thing feels wrong.”

“Calm down, mom,” Takumi soothed, calling on just a bit of his singing ability to impart a reassuring tone. “Rebellious phases run in this family. You wanted to elope when we were 17, remember?”

The vein bulging on Rin’s forehead underneath her matted bedhead told Takumi she remembered very clearly. “You make it hard to forget. That’s why we changed paths, isn’t it? To prevent something like this from happening?”

“On the contrary, I feel like we all but ensured that Azusa would have to make the same choice between what she wants to do and what she needs to do to be successful,” Takumi countered, raising his hand for silence before Rin could yell at him. “That being said, I think we did the right thing. This was going to happen, and I’d rather it be now and on familiar territory than after the deadline when we don’t have as much flexibility. The last few years have been hard, but this is a good thing. It means everything we’ve done is going to pay off soon. Azusa knows the exam won’t wait. Have some faith in her.”

Rin scoffed. “Baka. Of course I have faith in her. It’s our parenting choices I’m worried about. I know forcing things right now is wrong, but I- ah, never mind. You’re right. This is the path we chose. I’ll finish this song with you, no matter what.”

Sensing the discord raging within his wife’s soul, Takumi strode over to her. Rin didn’t respond as he gently wrapped one arm around her slender shoulders. It wouldn’t do to show his own fear when Rin had enough for herself. She knew he was holding onto her for both of them anyways. “We’ll make sure that this is the last time, without a doubt. And because of that, maybe we can get back to a little bit of how things were.”

It startled Takumi to noticed moisture in his wife’s eyes as she looked up at him. One hand snaked around his waist, squeezing him like an oversized teddy bear. Takumi would have been more amused by the development of his headstrong, reliable wife acting so vulnerable had he no context for the situation. Instead, he allowed her to squeeze as tightly as she liked. “You just want an excuse to break out the guitar more often,” she accused half-heartedly, chuckling emptily to herself.

Takumi responded with a laugh he hoped felt full enough for both of them. “Perhaps I do. I think deep down, that’s what we all want. We couldn’t let her make the same mistakes we did though.”

“Of course not,” Rin agreed, straightening herself up while shifting out of Takumi’s grip. “I won’t be sitting on my hands either. I don’t trust the younger Hirasawa sister yet, but she’s at least willing to keep up appearances. As a joke I tried reaching out to the parents and got nothing, so we’re stuck with her as the only gauge of what’s happening.”

As Takumi considered the implications of that situation and shoved the question of whether he was right or not down again, Rin began to move around the room, picking up various bits of clothing and discarded items. “We should clean this place up. At the least, she needs to have a room to come back to.” This sentiment lasted within Rin until she happened to lay eyes on the cat ears bulging out of Azusa’s bottom drawer. “Ne, was turning our daughter into a cosplayer part of our plan? That Ui girl seems to be into it. I never understood this stuff.” She picked up a pair of cat ears from the ground and tossed them callously in the drawer.

“I’m well aware of that,” Takumi sighed, lamenting his crushed dreams of seeing his wife in cat ears. “And it wasn’t, but I don’t have a problem with it. I think they look good on her.”

“Get your head out of the gutter, honey,” Rin chided, closing the drawer with her foot as she read Takumi’s expression. “This is a matter of trust. Even if you want to brush off the younger sister’s quirks, the guitarist is, to put it kindly, an airhead,” she bluntly stated, narrowing her eyes.

The father took his time with his response. Most of what he knew about Yui Hirasawa came from him talking at her rather than the other way around. That in mind, there didn’t appear to be much she had to say. Takumi could tell when someone was putting everything they had into a performance, he just hadn’t expecting everything Yui had to be so… concise? Simple? The proper word eluded him. _Perhaps that’s a strength, though. When she plays, she’s playing. It’s like the only thing compromising her existence in that moment is the sound her guitar makes. That’s why she’s able to keep up despite lacking experience and supposedly motivation. And despite that, she’s in the Light Music Club with someone like Azusa. I heard you loud and clear, Yui-san. If nothing else, I owe you one for letting me hear my daughter again. _“She’s an open, empty book,” Takumi decided, folding his arms. “A good fit for our daughter, to be honest. It’s blatantly obvious that she’s smitten with Azusa.”

Rin mimed Takumi’s action. “You think? In what way? That would complicate things.”

Recognizing he’d thought out loud just a bit too much, Takumi backed up. _I don’t even know if I’m right. But whether I am or not, there’s no need to complicate things, as Rin says. Besides, this isn’t wrong either. _“As a band. They’re all thick as thieves, but you know how guitarists are. It’s love or hate with them, and it’s obvious which way those two lean. Honestly, it’s not that important. What matters is that we can trust them and Azusa to realize that she needs to take control of her own destiny.”

Neither statement moved Rin’s arms from their folded position, but it was the latter she decided to assault. “That could mean she decides not to come back,” she pointed out, her tone too controlled. “She already knows what’s going to have to happen if she returns to us after so blatantly shunning us. Mou, that makes me sound like my mom.”

Contrary to the danger implied by the blaring alarm clock in Takumi’s mind, he smiled. “One day, she won’t need to come back,” he responded evenly. “But that won’t be now. Don’t worry, we don’t get out of being parents that easily. Whether she comes to that conclusion before her deadline or not is up to her. If she decides not to come back now, we simply have to chase her down. It’s what we wanted, isn’t it?”

The soft upturn in the corner of Rin’s lips told Takumi that she agreed, and the way her eyes dulled told him this conversation was over. “It’s too early in the morning for me to scheme with you,” Rin surrendered, flopping down on Azusa’s bed as she abandoned her cleaning duties for the moment. “I don’t think I can make it downstairs to the coffee before I die. Remember me, Takumi-san.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Takumi denied, starting for the door. “But we should get breakfast before it gets cold. We can make preparations later. We have to be ready at any moment.”

“Does that include right now?” Rin protested, unmoving. “I feel like I downed one bottle too many and I’m not even hungover. Sleep deprivation is a bitch.”

Deciding to cut his wife and himself some slack, Takumi elected to return to Rin’s side. The two sat side by side on their daughter’s bed as the sun rose to brighten up the room, if only just a little. “Alright. Just for a short while, we’ll let them take care of things.”

* * *

**November 22nd, The Detective’s Office**

_Why am I here?_

Detective Tsumugi preferred to take her time doing things. Not because she had a propensity for grandiose machinations like her kouhai or because the rapid pace of their band’s conversations winded her, but because she felt life was better savored when one paid attention to it, and paying attention was one of her few strong suits. It helped that her preferred observation target happened to be dead-end towns like these, where time appeared to be frozen for how little seemed to happen. The only real way for a civilian to notice the stream of such gradual change was to take a step outside and breathe air that hadn’t grown stagnant with the complacency of the routines that suffocated every complacent citizen living here. People did more or less the same thing every day, in the same way, and as long as there wasn’t too much change, the masses were content. Perhaps an event like a natural disaster or big scandal would come along to shake things up, but any rock that attempted to change the flow of the river of society’s will was quickly swept away and forgotten before long. It was something Tsumugi appreciated about Japan. Other countries felt much busier, their rivers raging rapids with boulders constantly crashing into the water to disrupt the natural flow of things and get people’s blood flowing over one thing or another. It was too thick, for lack of a better term. The calm waters of a sleepy town like this one tended to better suit Tsumugi’s more conciliatory nature, even if it meant she had to make her own fun sometimes. If Tsumugi could take anything away from watching her parents, it was that busy people tended to drown in the river sooner than their counterparts. Complacency to this idea let Tsumugi pretend the scars on her hand healed as fast as the ones on her heart. Thus, when her family permanently settled in Japan, Tsumugi had expected her career to taper off into an unceremonious dead end with her new location. She’d hang up the hat and magnifying glass early, whittling her days away quietly for no other reason than to put some distance between herself and the days she’d rather forget.

The town, however, had betrayed her. Where she’d expected a calm river she could play in as she liked she’d found the same rapids that had nearly swept her away in the form of her bandmates. There hadn’t been a peaceful day for the detective since she joined the Light Music Club, and the addictive thrill invigorated her interest in life anew. They had wanted her around just for being who she was, something no amount of work under the Kotobuki name had ever earned her. Now, with the river drying up, Tsumugi found herself questioning her actions as she stood motionless at its bank. _What should I do? I can feel what I care about slipping away. Again. I tried to help, but I only made things worse. I don’t have the right to call myself a detective, just a girl playing with dolls, backing away at the concept of consequences. The clubroom isn’t an office, so why did I respond to her call?_

It was a ridiculous question to ask when the reason was so glaringly obvious; Tsumugi still wanted to do something. She’d professed as much to Azusa and the others, going so far as to swear to the departed that she’d find a solution. Despite that conviction, she’d had no direction. The Kotobuki had only been taught to solve problems in one way, and doing nothing was intolerable, so when the call came in before the morning dew settled, Tsumugi had jumped on it without thinking. It was supposedly the biggest case of her fledgling career, rocketing through her receiver mere days after she told herself she’d find another way. The detective sighed, stirring her teacup with precision that sent needles of pain raging across her right hand. She’d already regained full motor control, leaving hiding the grimace from the effort as her only remaining task before she’d be able to play again. Certain things were too important to wait for. _I didn’t want to use my hands like this though. Being a detective for real isn’t like being one on tv. I’m supposed to trust the people in my family. Yet, if I don’t find out what’s on their card, I can’t bring them with me._

Whatever decision Tsumugi thought she’d made, the detective business evidently wasn’t done with her. Tsumugi stared out the window. The school always presented itself so nicely to the outside world. She wondered how ferociously the rumor mill tore at the reputation of the club that inhabited this room even now. Rumors, like diseases, were difficult to detect from the outside until it was too late. Whatever the case, teatime always calmed her down. Steam wafted past her nose kindly. The knowledge that such indulgences chipped away at her ill-fated lifespan always melted into the background when the sharp tang of mint and the soft caress of sugar took hold of her. Tea was supposed to have calming properties anyways, and Tsumugi couldn’t deny the ease her psyche felt with every cup. Setting the drink down on the clubroom table, Tsumugi flipped through the papers in front of her. The early rising sun glared at her handiwork, nearly a month of research based on years of observation and speculation that all led to the same useless conclusion. Having a family, closing this case, none of it was possible the way things were. Her ramblings in a journal meant little to nothing if she had no means of acting. The heiress sighed. She’d probably be knocking something over right now if she was Ritsu or even Yui, but the storm raging in her heart remained self-contained. _I’m so close. But I don’t know how to finish this. Maybe I can’t. I’m a detective whose claim to fame was botching every case I’ve taken on. I only ever learned how to do things one way, and that way won’t work here. I can at least see that now. How do I reach you all?_

With her head lowered, intent focus concentrated on the table, Tsumugi didn’t notice the door to her office opening until her mystery caller had sat down right in front of her. Tsumugi glanced up, unable to form her polite smile for an instant as she took in Ui Hirasawa’s pensive features. Despite the worry in the younger sister’s eyes, she carried about her an unmistakable air of confidence for someone who was brave enough to drag their sister’s friends out to school so early in the morning. That sort of brazen attitude was endearing to Tsumugi, in a way. It hadn’t ever struck Tsumugi before, but Ui was a bit of a looker, and Tsumugi wasn’t the kind of woman who could avoid looking into things she shouldn’t. It wasn’t her fault that her interactions with the opposite sex had been severely limited for most of her life, hopping from one private academy to another. Like any good connoisseur, Tsumugi could appreciate curves when she saw them. Infinitely more intriguing to Tsumugi, however, was what was going on inside Ui’s head as she withered under the heiress’ judging gaze. The reaction slightly amused Tsumugi. Before the party, Ui likely wouldn’t have given her the time of day even if she had watches on both wrists. Despite the interest Tsumugi had in Ui’s newfound reverence, she wasn’t exactly in a position to be toying with people. Of everyone outside of the club that she knew, only this woman had the guile necessary to go after what she wanted. More importantly, she could make you think her plan was your idea to avoid getting her hands dirty. It was befitting of her, Tsumugi supposed. Hands that pretty wouldn’t last with all the dirt they should have on them. Ui Hirasawa was an enigma. Confident, amicable, dangerous, and the only person Tsumugi felt she had left to turn to.

“Sorry for calling you out this early, senpai,” Ui apologized, bowing. “But I wasn’t sure who else to turn to, and I wanted to talk in person. Forgive me.” As Ui took a seat, Tsumugi refocused, summoning her detective persona.

If the call had been real, Tsumugi couldn’t afford to lose a potential ally. At the same time, she couldn’t afford to be flexible on her methods, either. “I told them I wouldn’t try to solve this case for them anymore,” Tsumugi brushed off, trying to fold her arms assertively and coming off like a pouting child. “I took your call because we’re friends, but I can’t do detective work on the books anymore. I’m out of the business.”

For a solid five seconds, Ui was completely lost. Tsumugi could hear the gears turning in her junior’s head as she processed what her senior was saying and adapted remarkably quickly, a strength of hers as Tsumugi recalled. “Detective, I understand. But this isn’t about you or me, it’s about my sister. If someone doesn’t do something, she’s going to throw away her best chance at going to a university.” There was no need for Ui to emphasize how important that was to her.

Both girls knew Ui wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t desperate. In a way, it bothered Tsumugi that such conditions were required to convince someone to just want to speak with her, but she brushed aside the dour thought. “Is it ever not about your sister with you, Ui-chan?” Tsumugi accused evenly. “That aside, you confidently implied I was to have nothing to do with the band’s case last time we spoke, not long after I said something similar to you if I recall. I made my move and was burned for it. If wanting to see them all into a specific future was all it took, we wouldn’t be here. What changed, Ui-chan?” The detective already had an idea, of course, but knowing what the other guy was willing to tell you was just as useful as the truth itself in some cases.

Ui narrowed her eyes. Her pleasant smile offset the cold judgment within her eyes. It was like looking into a mirror as Tsumugi matched the appraising gaze evenly. “What you did was foolish, Mugi-senpai, and I tried to tell you as much. But I’m not here to discuss my sister and Azusa-chan. This is strictly about this competition you’ve entered.”

A bushy eyebrow rose. That wasn’t the move Tsumugi had expected. A small ray of hope shone within her that she tried to hide for negotiation purposes. “Even with Azusa-chan relocating to your house?” Tsumugi challenged. “Yui-chan was up most of the night talking about it. She was more animated than I’ve seen her in weeks, but I can’t imagine you don’t have your reservations.”

For a moment, Ui attempted to put up a front, already shoved onto her back foot, but Tsumugi couldn’t call herself a detective without intuition on her side. The junior quickly relented as she realized she had no recourse for diverting the conversation. “Fine. Of course I’m upset about that. Regardless of the reasoning, it’s a reckless move of her to invite herself over to our house when she knows Onee-chan is confused about how she feels. Thus, in order to best counter that problem, someone needs to show her what she should be focusing on.” It was a bit unusual, hearing Ui speak so callously about something.

The disparate nature of Ui’s speech from her normal tone might have concerned Tsumugi more under different circumstances, but not when a more pressing matter confronted them both. “Someone besides you?” Tsumugi wondered aloud, rising from her seat. “Would you like some tea?”

“I can get my own, thanks,” Ui denied politely as she also rose. “And yes. I’ve already told her what she should do, but she’s holding out now because of this competition. She thinks that if she wins, she can somehow bring Azusa-chan with you all next year. I came to you because I at least know you can set her straight in that regard.” She began to pour tea from the kettle Tsumugi had prepared with expert precision.

Tsumugi took a sip of her own teacup thoughtfully. _She knew my heart wasn’t in the competition, that I might give up given the proper persuading. So she called me out here because she knows my plan would all but guarantee Yui-chan goes to a university? Do I want to win? Winning means being with my family. Yes, if I win, they will listen to me. Ricchan said we can fight and make up. I can be a Kotobuki one more time if it’s for them. That’s how I should approach this, as a real detective. _The heiress ran a finger over her injury. “If you want to work with me, Ui-chan, you need to understand my position. I still believe Azusa-chan and Yui-chan should completely open up to each other. I made the mistake of conflating their situation for Ricchan and Mio-chan’s situation, and I paid the price for that. Despite that, for the band’s overall good, I believe Yui-chan and Azusa-chan need to properly address everything. And please, don’t say they already have, because it’s quite clear they haven’t. That, however, isn’t part of what I’ve written on my card. I will make good on my promise to Azusa-chan to let her handle that particular affair by herself, at least for now. All I can give now in terms of a plan is my promise that I’ll do everything within my power to get Yui-chan and the others to attend University with me. I have no machinations beyond that point. As long as we remain a band and family, their lives are their own. Perhaps that’s a flimsy promise, but it’s all I have.” Unbecoming of a detective as it was, Tsumugi bowed in deference to her junior.

As she took a sip of piping hot tea, Ui carefully considered her approach. Tsumugi had been warned about people like this when she was younger, the ones who took their time in their approach. Supposedly nothing was more dangerous than the combination of time and the ability to think for yourself. “We aren’t going to agree about Onee-chan and Azusa-chan, but despite what it looks like, I want things to work out for Azusa-chan too. I just can’t see a scenario where they get together and it ends in anything but disaster,” Ui professed. “She won’t tell us why she’s here, and while I can’t pry, it still bothers me that I don’t know how to help her. In any case, maybe some years down the line, Onee-chan can think about relationships, but now isn’t the time. I want her to settle her future as soon as possible, so I need you to find out what’s on everyone’s cards, detective.” The girl who’d ruined Tsumugi’s initial plans leaned against the wall, a challenge in her eyes.

“Why me, if I may ask?” Tsumugi questioned, feeling her persona begin to falter. “You could have gone to any of the other seniors. Mio-chan and Ricchan are probably more motivated than I am.”

“I don’t know where their heads are at,” Ui countered. “And while we don’t perfectly agree, I’d much rather work with you than against you on this.”

It was perturbing to Tsumugi that she apparently had this effect on people. Making a note to apologize to Jun again later, Tsumugi nodded to herself. “I see. In that case, I’ll take this last job. I hope you’re ready to work, Ui-chan. If we do this right, we can resolve everything within a day or so. Has Yui-chan explained the rules to you?”

Ui smiled genuinely at the acceptance. “Mugi-senpai, thank you. Onee-chan told Azusa-chan and I how it works, yes.”

Having a new ally invigorated something within Tsumugi. She hadn’t realized just how pervasive the feeling of loneliness welling up inside her was until someone attempted to fill the hole. Admittedly, the hole was mostly existent only in her mind, but she couldn’t help but feel a degree of separation from the others over her actions. Being used to the treatment only made every sign of it more pronounced to the heiress. “While we’re working together, I’m just Mugi,” Tsumugi corrected quickly. “I’m counting on you, Ui. I know you pick things up quickly, but this is a fast-paced business. Please do your best to keep up.” As a sign of trust, Tsumugi held out the card that was her own ticket to the future to the younger sister.

Setting her teacup down, Ui tentatively took the card from her senpai. Reading over it once, she returned it with a small smile. “Deciding things like this is so silly. But it’s fun, too. I look forward to working with you Mugi.” Hearing those words send a jolt of memory Tsumugi had forgotten she had through her.

The blonde placed a hand to her forehead, grimacing as she recalled the painful memory. “Sorry, was that wrong? Did you want me to say detective or something?” Ui fretted.

Raising a hand, Tsumugi forced a smile. “No, I was just thinking about my old partner. Please don’t concern yourself over her past or ours. Right now, we have a game to win.”

* * *

**November 22nd, The First Break **

Tsumugi was out the door with the sound of the bell. Her teacher blinked in surprise as Tsumugi blew past her and into the hallway. Watching Yui had taught her the optimal route of escape when speed was the only concern. Throughout her morning classes, she could only focus on her plan and her new ally. There was no reason to worry about learning anything but what she needed to know, which didn’t include English today. Even if it was just a status check, Tsumugi was unable to contain herself. _Perhaps I’m taking this too seriously. No, that couldn’t be. It is a big deal to be able to share my thoughts freely with someone else. I wonder if Ui discovered anything interesting._

On her end, Tsumugi had tasked herself with gauging the moods of her fellow seniors, something she did without or without trying on a daily basis anyways. The others had been rather cordial today, though being able to tell it was a façade dampened Tsumugi’s hope that they were somehow acting like a whole once more. She couldn’t complain too much though, not when she was showing them the same poker face from the second she stepped into the room. It was clear to everyone, even Nodoka and the other members of the class, that something had changed in the Light Music Club overnight. Three mysteries needed to be solved, and Tsumugi didn’t have any time to waste. _Well, there was an exception. __Yui-chan is relaxed again. Apparently having Azusa-chan around was enough to assuage her fears completely. Curious. Well, that’s just another thing to question. In a way, that’s Yui-chan’s way of entering her own element, I suppose. _Filing the topic away for later, Tsumugi power walked towards Ui’s classroom, ignorant of her outward appearance.

Despite moving as fast as school rules would allow while dodging suspicious eyes bearing down on her, Ui was still waiting patiently outside the classroom by the time Tsumugi arrived. To catch her breath, Tsumugi fell against the wall next to the junior, nodding politely to her as the pair facing Ui’s classroom without being in direct view from the doorway. “So, assistant Ui-chan, what have you got?” Tsumugi whispered suspiciously. “I think I made it without drawing too many unwanted eyes. The rumor mill in this part of town is vicious, you know.” Self-awareness happened to be one of detective Tsumugi’s weaknesses.

Ui raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the approach she was being presented with. They both knew exactly where the rumors came from via their own sources, but Ui didn’t have any apparent interest in pressing the topic for the moment. “Not much I haven’t already told you,” Ui admitted, sounding disappointed with herself. “Azusa-chan is staying with us for the moment. She still didn’t say exactly why, even when Jun-chan and I asked her if she was okay. Honestly, I got the feeling she really didn’t want to talk about it. Her parents must have really done something bad to make her that angry at them. Oh, and she didn’t know much more about the competition than I did this morning, so I explained it to her and Jun-chan. I don’t think Jun-chan cared all that much.”

None of this information was particularly useful, but something about Azusa’s reported behavior did strike Tsumugi as peculiar. _Her mother is overprotective, I know that much. What Ui is saying and what happened doesn’t track with my impression of Mrs. Nakano. So one version of Mrs. Nakano is false, either the one in my head or the one in Ui’s head. As a detective, I have to find out which one. Azusa-chan is part of the band too. _“Everyone is, ah, a bit tense at the moment on my side,” Tsumugi shared, playing with her fingers. “We’re all still talking, but it’s as if we’re all afraid to address the elephant in the room. Even Ricchan avoided bringing it up in front of everyone. It’s good to know they’re taking this seriously, but it will make grasping victory more difficult. Yui-chan seemed more like herself though, possibly because of what happened with Azusa-chan. Truthfully, it’s because of that that I think Azusa-chan might be the key to getting Yui-chan to crack first,” she deduced soundly.

It suddenly bothered Tsumugi, hearing those words out of her mouth. It was this prideful line of thinking, that one person could be manipulated into acting on behalf of Tsumugi’s interests that led to where she was now. _Is the only reason I feel remorse because my idea didn’t work, that I got hurt? Maybe I’m more of a child than even Yui-chan. Playing pretend. Tea parties. How… selfish. _The sudden burst of self-deprecation silenced the heiress as she let her eyes wander.

Ui, unaware of the doubt clinging to her senpai, rested her palms against the wall as she leaned backwards. Foot traffic was light, given that they were in the middle of a break, but that didn’t stop some passerby from whispering as they passed the unusual duo in the hall. Tsumugi felt the urge to wrap things up quickly. Making trouble for Azusa or Ui was the last thing she wanted to do. “Is that really necessary? I was under the impression that Onee-chan wasn’t that into the competition. Shouldn’t you be able to simply convince her with, ah, food or something?” That Ui was willing to admit how easily her sister could be persuaded revealed just how seriously she was taking the situation to the heiress.

Snapping herself back into the moment, Tsumugi shook her head. “An interesting theory, but the evidence isn’t there,” she denied with a wave of her hand. “Yui-chan didn’t blurt out her card immediately when Ricchan asked her about it first thing in the morning and didn’t mention it when nobody else did. From her lackadaisical front, I’d presume she cares quite a lot, possibly even similarly to how I feel about the situation.”

This sat poorly with the younger sister. She shuffled her feet back and forth like she was trying out ice skates for the first time. “I see,” the detective’s apprentice muttered, frustrated. “Then what should we do? Pushing Azusa-chan and Onee-chan together isn’t an option, Mugi. I won’t allow it.”

It certainly was an option, but not one Tsumugi could take and hope to keep her newfound partner afterwards, and Tsumugi had burned more than enough bridges for the moment. The two stood tacitly, a window overlooking the courtyard between them. For once, the weather had managed to sort itself into a sunny day, though the promise of an impending winter still ran a chill down the spine of anyone foolish enough to step outside. It was a cruel trap, luring people in with the promise of warmth only to stab them in the back with the opposite. _Is it the sun’s fault, though? The sun didn’t promise anything. It just happened to shine where people could see it. _Discarding the philosophy, Tsumugi went over what she knew, which happened to be very little.

Without matchmaking as an option to lower Yui’s guard, Tsumugi had no useable leads. She wasn’t entirely certain what a detective without leads was supposed to do, but standing around hoping something would happen didn’t seem like the right answer. “This almost makes me wish the rumor mill was accurate,” Tsumugi hoped half-jokingly as she thought aloud. “We might be able to get more information that way. Ne, are they still saying I lost a hand?”

The idea brought a bemused smile to Ui’s face. Tsumugi found herself startlingly enraptured by the way Ui’s actual smile stole her attention. It wasn’t too dissimilar from the comfort Yui or another band member’s smile made her feel, but seeing such an unabashedly genuine look on Ui, the girl who rarely deviated from her default polite smile, intrigued the detective within Tsumugi. “I think so. It’s kind of funny, but I think it bothers Azusa-chan more than everyone else. She feels responsible, after all,” Ui answered, nodding towards her classroom. “After all, it was our class that started it, even if Onee-chan and, ah, your visits have perpetuated it. Sorry, I don’t mean to be provocative.”

Placing a reassuring hand on Ui’s shoulder, Tsumugi attempted to return the smile she’d been given. “Speak your mind, Ui,” Tsumugi encouraged. “That’s what a good detective should do. A part of me finds the rumor mongering a bit too irrational to tolerate as well. Then again, people usually aren’t very rational.”

“They aren’t?” Ui questioned, cocking her head to one side. “You don’t think we’re behaving rationally right now?”

Blushing as she realized what she’d implied, Tsumugi quickly retracted her statement along with her hand. “No, that’s not what I meant! What I meant was we can’t rely on people always making optimal decisions in every situation. We have to think about emotions, too. That’s one of the reasons I think I haven’t made any progress until now. With a tangible goal, however, and your help, I think we can do something positive for HTT.” Another memory surfaced in Tsumugi’s mind as she stood up straight. “I’m not sure I can really explain it, but this reminds me of how I felt being around my old partner, my old friend. It’s not like being with the band, and it is at the same time. She was like my family too. How strange.”

Ui also stood up from the wall, Tsumugi’s ramblings holding her attention better than Tsumugi would have expected. “Unless her name was Ui, she’s not me,” the younger sister asserted. “What we do now is more important than anything that happened in the past, Mugi.”

Though Tsumugi couldn’t determine Ui’s real intentions, the words cheered her up significantly. _She’s right. I’ve been dwelling on the past too much. Ricchan essentially said the same thing. A good detective would move forward from here with her head held high. _“You’re right. Her name was Sumire. I’d be doing her a disservice not to put everything I have into this case.”

“You’d be better of minding your own business instead of playing detective,” Jun interrupted, approaching the pair from the doorway to her classroom. “Mou, I thought you fell in or something, Ui. What happened to going to the bathroom?”

A guilty yet endearing blush was the only excuse Ui could muster before words found her. “I ran into Mugi on the way,” she fibbed. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

Thoroughly unconvinced, Jun rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. More importantly, you. Moog. What happened to not interfering with my friends? I thought we had a whole friendship moment already. Do I need to make you buy me lunch again?”

Tsumugi tried, but she couldn’t come up with what Jun was referring to. “I don’t recall that coming up the last time we spoke,” she thought aloud. “I just wanted to discuss some things with Ui, but I apologize if I’m bothering you.”

“I asked her to come here during our break,” Ui supported, taking an assertive step forward. “Mugi and I are working together for the sake of Onee-chan and her friends.”

This claim turned Jun’s idle curiosity into something more mischievous. “She’s Mugi now, is that right? You must be desperate to win this competition thing of yours. Maybe I should get involved too. I’m sure I could get Azusa-chan to help out and-” Jun’s musings faltered as she felt two deadly glares bearing down on her simultaneously.

“That’s not necessary,” Tsumugi and Ui spoke in unison with the same even tone.

Jun flinched, retreating half a step before catching herself. “Okay, jeez, message received. Don’t let me interfere with your fun little crusade. Whoever let you two agree on something is insane. If you’re not gonna kill me for asking, what exactly are you doing here?”

A nod to the classroom was Tsumugi’s response, the heiress tempering her instinct in the interest of remaining on cordial terms with her juniors. “We’re pooling information. Ui-chan has agreed to help me win this competition, and we’d like to avoid resorting to drastic measures.”

Despite having just backed down, Jun couldn’t help but question the move. “You two? I don’t get it. Ui, is Moog blackmailing you or something?”

“Our interests align,” Ui vaguely responded, dodging the main question and likely making Jun wonder if she was right. “We both want what we believe is best for Onee-chan.”

“What’s going on out here?” Azusa cut in, pushing her way past Jun to get to the hallway. “Jun-chan, I thought we were going to the vending machine when Ui-chan got back. And Mugi-senpai, what are you doing here? Did something happen with Yui-senpai? Nobody texted me about anything.”

Trying to come up with a reasonable lie was shockingly difficult when Azusa stared at her like that. It was a gaze full of innocent expectation that Tsumugi couldn’t fathom the cause for. Why Azusa thrust such blind trust upon her senpais, especially Tsumugi, was a mystery she wasn’t sure she even wanted to solve. All that mattered was she used the responsibility that gaze gave her properly, living up to the image her kouhai had of her but wouldn’t express verbally. Most importantly, it was another reason to reach the day when she could take her bandages off sooner rather than later. “I heard about what happened from Yui-chan,” Tsumugi explained with concern. “I also wanted to make sure you were alright. Is there anything the rest of us can do for you or discuss today? I’m certain that-“

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Azusa shut down harshly before immediately walking back her abrasive tone. “I just need a place to stay while my parents are out on business. Don’t worry about me. You have your own competition to worry about with the others, right?”

The friendly smile on Azusa’s face didn’t suit the lie she was telling. Tsumugi and Ui confirmed that they both knew Azusa was fibbing with a look, but neither knew how to call her out on it, and Tsumugi wasn’t sure if she should even try. Whether she sensed she wasn’t being believed or simply wished to fill the growing void in conversation, Azusa decided to justify herself. “Honestly, it’s just for a few days. I didn’t mention it before now because I didn’t know how long they’d be gone and I didn’t want to impose. You can ask Yui-senpai, she’ll corroborate my story. Senpai, you shouldn’t be thinking about others when you have your own business to attend to. I’ll support whatever decision you all come to, so don’t worry about me until then, please. I’m going to get a drink. Ui-chan, Jun-chan?” The junior edged herself away, clearly trying to leave but holding out until she got a response from her friends.

It struck Tsumugi that the Hirasawas weren’t the only ones affected by Azusa’s move. Despite her brazen move to leave, the kouhai’s muscles were relaxed, like she’d just stepped into a warm bath after a long day. There was a distinct lack of the razor-sharp focus Tsumugi had become accustomed to feeling from Azusa, though she didn’t know if this was a positive or a negative thing. _Perhaps it’s neither. In her position, I might not know exactly how to feel either. _Tsumugi bade herself to refocus as Ui shook her head to Azusa’s request. “We still have strategizing to do,” Ui responded, indicating herself and Tsumugi.

Like Jun, Azusa was unable to suppress a raised eyebrow at the team. “I didn’t think you’d take Mugi-senpai’s side of all people, Ui-chan,” Azusa admitted, glancing at the pair like they were two like poles of a magnet. “Sorry, Mugi-senpai. That isn’t a slight against you.”

Ui blushed, looking away, forcing Tsumugi to pick things up for her. “Our interests align,” she explained simply once more. “And I want to do my best for everyone. You’re going to be helping Yui-chan, aren’t you?”

The question left Azusa unexpectedly flustered. She looked away, playing with a pigtail nervously. “Eh? I, ah, I don’t know. Maybe. Gah, it doesn’t matter. I have places to be. I’ll catch up with you all later.” Azusa stormed off, eager to get as far away from the conversation as possible without even asking Jun what she was doing.

Tsumugi’s brow creased as she frowned, bushy eyebrows contorting in irritation with herself. She hadn’t meant to plant that idea in Azusa’s head, having assumed it was already there. _Am I just doing the same thing over again? No, this has to be different. This is for the sake of solving the case. I have to believe that. _Jun watched Azusa storm off and almost bump into several students and a wall, sighing in defeat. “That girl never learns. If it’s not one thing it’s another. Well, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get herself killed out there. Have fun doing, uh, whatever sort of detective thing you have going on.”

As Tsumugi’s lips parted to respond in the affirmative to Jun’s farewell, another familiar black-haired girl stepped in to interrupt the conversation. “Hold on, you,” Mio commanded, getting between Jun and the disappearing Azusa. “We need to have a talk. Come with me.”

Had any of the other seniors spoke so authoritatively to Jun, Tsumugi assumed she would have at least shown some resistance, perhaps even outright hostility. With Mio, however, Jun complied immediately, going so far as to bow. “Oh, Mio-senpai, of course! Whatever you say. What do you ne-oh!” Jun gasped as Mio snatched the younger bassist by the arm in a decidedly brazen move for someone like her.

Without even a glance towards Tsumugi and Ui, Mio half-dragged Jun in the opposite direction, leaving Tsumugi wondering if the bassist had even seen her friends. Ui rubbed one of her arms pensively in the spot where Jun’s arm had been grabbed. “I wonder if she’s trying to recruit Jun-chan,” she mused in worry. “Jun-chan has always looked up to Mio-senpai. If Mio-senpai noticed what you were doing, she might have decided to seek out allies of her own to develop her own plans.”

Having just realized how far behind she might be falling, Tsumugi’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think Mio-chan would be that bold! This is going to be a trickier case than I thought. Hm. I might need to rethink our strategy, Ui-chan. We need to know who else is involved in this game.”

Ui nodded tersely. “I understand. You should get back to your classroom then. Ritsu-senpai and Onee-chan might be forming teams as we speak. I’ll keep an eye on Jun-chan.”

The thought of whether or not having allies would actually help any one individual surrender what was on their card hadn’t occurred to Tsumugi until now. _If they’re making teams, that’s one thing, but the bigger question is why? I joined up with Ui-chan because we both need information and she has sway over her sister. Mio-chan allying with Jun-chan, who has no major connections to any of the seniors, makes little sense. This is confusing. Speaking of which… _“I was meaning to ask, are you really okay with openly siding against your sister?” Tsumugi questioned before Ui could go anywhere. “Even your friends seem to be confused. Shouldn’t you be helping her?”

Pausing in her retreat towards her classroom, Ui met Tsumugi’s question head on. “I told you, I’m on the side of Onee-chan’s best interests. Sometimes that lines up with what she believes her best interests are, sometimes it doesn’t,” she responded matter-of-factly. “That’s all there is to it. Now hurry, the break will end soon.” Without waiting for a response, Ui returned to her classroom.

Forgetting who was supposed to be the senpai for an instant, Tsumugi complied, taking off for her classroom with a wave nobody saw. Ui could be just as willful as her sister when she wanted to be. Though the question still ached in her mind, Tsumugi set it aside. As long as Ui was willing to work with her, she could ignore the mystery of her motivations, at least for now. When she returned to the classroom, Tsumugi was slightly surprised to see only Yui among her friends present. It wasn’t shocking that Mio would still be gone, but Ritsu usually took full advantage of any allotted time to slack off, furthering Ui’s theory of team building. Yui noticed her friend returning and waved to her as she concluded her conversation with another student. “Mugi-chan, you’re back! Did you tell Ui I said hi?”

“Did you ask me to?” Tsumugi responded instantly without questioning how Yui knew she had gone off to see Ui. “I can next time, if you like.”

Unperturbed, Yui quickly agreed to Tsumugi’s proposal. The heiress allowed herself to relax in an easy conversation with the bubbly guitarist for a moment, ignoring the issue of Yui having knowledge she shouldn’t. If her hunch was right, a passing kouhai could easily explain that discrepancy, another reason she needed to watch herself carefully. Though Yui made no moves to inquire about her card, even the slightest probe from Tsumugi was deflected so perfectly that the heiress began to suspect Yui knew what she was doing. _Is it this hard for real detectives? Mou. I’ve been at this for a while, too. At least talking with Yui-chan is fun._

“Where are the others?” Tsumugi wondered aloud, checking her phone as she realized just how long she’d been talking with Yui. “Breaktime will end soon.”

Yui shrugged from her desk. “Dunno. Mio-chan said she needed to confront someone and Ricchan and Nodoka-chan left together for what they called president work. It’s kinda lonely, honestly.”

Nodding distractedly, Tsumugi processed this information rapidly as the situation around her grew more and more hostile. _It’s worse than we anticipated. Everyone is already forming pairs. I’ll have to be more decisive in my actions, and to do that, we need to understand what the others intend to do. Of everyone, there’s one team that’s a much clearer threat than the others. _“How are you feeling about the competition?” Tsumugi casually asked as she stared out the window, knowing Yui wouldn’t be offput by such a direct question as long as she didn’t think it was about her card’s contents. “It’s a bit exciting, isn’t it?”

Eyes sparkling, Yui nodded several times. “Yeah! You get it too, Mugi-chan! Mio-chan and Ricchan are taking things too seriously. What’s the point of doing things if they aren’t fun?”

Somewhere from the front of the room, Tsumugi thought she heard a teacher complaining that she hadn’t come up with their competition for fun, but she brushed the idea aside. A more crucial thought had occurred to the heiress. It wasn’t necessarily a fair question she was about to ask, but experience told her that curiosity wouldn’t let her go on this one. “Do you think life is fun, Yui-chan?” she asked quietly.

Caught off guard, Yui hesitated. “Yeah,” she eventually affirmed, confused. “Life with everyone in the Light Music Club has been lots of fun. Why?”

Tsumugi smiled, waving off the question with a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I was just confirming something for myself. When I win, I’ll do my best to continue to make life fun for you and the others,” she reassured her friend.

Yui snickered. “You’re sneaky, Mugi-chan. I’m not gonna give up that easily. I have to win too!” she boasted, drawing the attention of several bored students.

Ending the stares with a look, Tsumugi refocused on Yui. “Of course. Good luck, Yui-chan.”

“You too!” Yui responded instantly, just as the bell rang.

The rest of the class filed in uneventfully as Tsumugi plotted her next move from her desk. Simply wandering around, trying to gather information from a stray conversation or directly asking what was on a card was pointless. The Light Music Club was popular, but not nearly popular enough for people to care about their competition. Even Yui wouldn’t quit just because someone asked her to. No, in order to make progress on this case, Tsumugi had to go to the one person who would likely know where everyone stood better than she did. Said person was the last to enter the room before the break ended, taking her seat in front of Yui after making sure every student was accounted for. Tsumugi pulled out a piece of paper from her desk and quickly scrawled out a note in immaculate handwriting for the student council president.

_When you get the chance, we need to talk._

* * *

**November 22nd, The Student Council Room **

Tsumugi glanced around suspiciously. She hadn’t been followed, which was actually a bad thing when you were counting on having backup for confronting a suspect. She’d texted Ui with specific directions on their next target, but it seemed the younger detective had become preoccupied for one reason or another. _Perhaps Nodoka-chan already used one of her subordinates to stall her? If that’s the case, this may be a trap. But I’m in too deep to back out now. _The empty student council room was cold, a culture shock of a feeling in comparison to how Tsumugi felt when she was alone in the clubroom.

The only tell that Tsumugi could fathom she’d dropped was asking Nodoka to meet her here at lunchtime, but the student council president shouldn’t suspect anything at this point. It was a dangerous enough move, requesting a direct audience with someone who held so much sway over the temperament of the student body, but the situation had forced Tsumugi’s hand. Tsumugi had chosen to take this case, so if it meant confronting the person who had the most sway over Yui and Mio outside of their band who just happened to be the don of the student governing body, so be it. When the door opened, Tsumugi looked up expectantly, only for her expression to sour when the person she asked to meet with her appeared instead of Ui. Nodoka tilted her head at Tsumugi’s reaction but entered the room anyways. “You and the rest of your band are suddenly very interested in dominating my free time,” Nodoka commented as she sat across from the heiress. “Not that I’m necessarily complaining. It keeps my job interesting as these last months start to slow things down. How can I help you, Mugi-chan?”

Deadly uncertainty stalled the heiress. She could attempt to buy time until Ui arrived to back her up, but doing so might cause her to lose control of the conversation before she got anything useful. _No, I have to do this myself. I can’t completely rely on Ui-chan just because she agreed to help me. _The sentiment fell flat as the heiress continued to glance wistfully towards the door, her gaze tracked by Nodoka. “If you’re waiting on Ui, I asked her to deliver a message to her sister,” Nodoka explained. “It was fortunate I happened to run into her on the way to the council room, huh? Though maybe not, if you were waiting on her. Sorry about that.”

Nodoka’s polite smile confirmed Tsumugi’s worst fears. The president was already a step ahead of her, and she knew exactly what it took to defer the attention of her only ally elsewhere. Mustering up her years of noble training, Tsumugi put on her own smile. “I see, Nodoka-chan. In that case, you’re probably already aware of what this is about.”

Red-tipped glasses glinted in the afternoon light as Nodoka nodded, one hand resting on a small pile of forms by her desk. “Ritsu was quite clear in her instructions. Something along the lines of ‘Mugi will probably come snooping around for information. Don’t tell her or anyone else in the band what we’re planning. I’ll reveal it when the time is ripe.’ We’ve been working on this for over a week you know.”

That last line caught Tsumugi off guard. The idea that Nodoka had intentionally revealed that information didn’t even cross her mind. _A week? The competition started yesterday. Is Ricchan planning something else behind our backs? How could I have missed something like this? _“Over a week?” Tsumugi echoed in disbelief. “But how could she have known about this competition over a week in advance? We only started yesterday, Nodoka-chan. Did Ricchan and Sawa-chan plan everything out beforehand? How do you factor in? What’s going on with my friends?”

Bombarded with impossible to answer questions, Nodoka raised her hands in a plea for mercy. Noticing just how flustered a single line had made her, Tsumugi took a deep breath. When she was able to think clearly again, Nodoka was giving her a somewhat confused smile. “I don’t think we’re on the same page here. Ritsu might have mentioned some competition or other earlier, but I can assure you I have nothing to do with it. Let Ritsu explain that to you if you’re really curious.” Adjusting her glasses, Nodoka gave her friend an empathetic look. “Listen, I know your band is going through something of a rough patch at the moment, but I’m glad that Yui at least seems to be feeling better. As long as she’s still smiling, I don’t feel the need to get any more directly involved.”

Tsumugi deftly caught the tell that Nodoka was implying that she’d already involved herself to some degree and capitalized on the new lead. “Hold on, Nodoka-chan. Since Ricchan told you about it, you must have some opinion on what the best direction for the band should be,” she posited, placing her good hand on the table assertively. “And now you’re talking about some grand plan with Ricchan and say there’s nothing I need to be concerned about. How can I not be concerned?” It wasn’t the safest move to press Nodoka on matters like this, but Tsumugi knew she wouldn’t get another opportunity.

“I can’t do anything but say she isn’t planning anything malicious,” Nodoka admitted, shrugging. “You should know that. If I were you, I’d be happy she was still talking to me. You should be concerned with your own affairs, Mugi-chan. This competition doesn’t concern me.”

Yanked from her uncertain thoughts as her mind focused on the vague threat behind Nodoka’s words, Tsumugi put her nervous energy into sitting up as straight as possible. Experience kicked in as she summoned her heiress persona to maintain the air of courtesy in the room. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she uttered carefully. “Our club is at a crossroads. I took it upon myself to help them choose a direction, to be the detective who finds out their truth for them. After that, I’m out of this business for good.”

“But that’s never how it goes, is it?” Nodoka countered swiftly, twirling a pen in one hand like she’d fully expected things to go this way. “You say you want to leave, but they’ll never let you go. You tell them this is the last time, that you don’t want the responsibility, that the burden is too great for you alone, and they laugh and leave it to you anyways. That’s how people like me end up as club president of clubs we never asked to be a part of. It’s why none of you have asked Ritsu to give you the club president position, even if you don’t realize it. My point, Mugi-chan, is that if you take responsibility for a decision this vital, it’ll never be the last time. It’s something all of you need to understand. Do you understand? We’re talking about your futures here, and I’d much rather my friends become successful.”

Tsumugi felt her breath hitch, a frustrating tell of her genuine response to Nodoka’s assertion. She calmed herself quickly, fingering the card in her pocket. “There’s more to it than just being successful,” she argued, rising from her chair. “I truly believe that we have a better chance of being happy if we stay together. Because of that, attending University together is just as important as what we attend University for. I walked away from a similar choice once. There was a case that needed solving, and I chose to turn my head away, because I was scared of what I would find out. When I finally mustered the courage to open my eyes, everything I was worried about losing was gone. If I’m going to lose what I care about anyways, I’m going to do it with my eyes open and my head held high. That’s what being a detective is for me, and the band’s unity is more than worth fighting for, even at my own expense. That’s my resolve, Nodoka-chan.” Hoping she had imparted her point properly, Tsumugi stared into Nodoka’s unblinking eyes.

Nodoka said nothing, looking the heiress over like she was a painting in an art museum. There was no pride or vanity in Tsumugi’s tone, only terrifyingly soothing conviction. The student council president chewed lightly on her pen, far more relaxed that Tsumugi thought she should be in this situation. “I don’t know about all this case and detective stuff, but I do know that you’re part of a very strange club. Honestly, who makes decisions like this with a game this inane? You’ll really be okay with following whatever career path someone like Yui wrote down?”

The question was loaded, a gun pointed squarely at Tsumugi’s heart. Now, bolstered by her own words, she didn’t so much as blink. “If Yui-chan was able to convince me to forfeit this competition, it was because I believed wholeheartedly that her plan was as sound or more sound than my own. Though I don’t anticipate that scenario, I am prepared to accept it as a possibility. Good detectives know to rule out the impossible until you find the truth. Yui-chan might be a bit of a loose cannon, but I trust her. Though we may not see eye to eye now, I trust them all, Nodoka-chan. I’m going to assist them however I can. That’s what makes me happy.”

Nodding slowly to herself, Nodoka leaned back in her seat. “She’s been a free spirit since kindergarten,” the president reminisced. “But this club has been good for her. And… I’ve already accepted that we’re going our separate ways after high school, Yui and I. For better or worse, however, I approached this logically. Unlike you, I can prioritize the allure of high ranking universities over wanting to stay near my closest friend, even if doing so is bittersweet. That’s not to say your way it’s wrong, it’s just not a path that’s open to me. Frankly, it’d be reassuring to know you and the others will be looking out for Yui after high school. Look at me, missing someone who isn’t gone. I shouldn’t get sentimental when there’s still work to do.” Nodoka busied herself with the papers piled on her desk gave Tsumugi her own excuse to process what the president was saying.

Images of another life, one before that day nearly a decade of Novembers ago, flashed in Tsumugi’s mind as she observed Nodoka’s solemn work. _Sumire…Would you be happy with how I’m handling this? I hope I get to ask you questions like that again someday. _“Losing a childhood friend hurts,” Tsumugi related. “I understand, more than you realize. It’s part of the reason I have to do whatever it takes to keep the band together, even if they get mad at me. I don’t want them to understand the way I understand.”

To her surprise, Nodoka appeared to be following her train of thought perfectly. When she glanced up from her work, there was understanding behind her glasses. “I’m not sure how, but I just have a feeling you’re right. Part of the reason I’m helping Ritsu out is because I feel like I should do something for her before we graduate, a thank you of sorts. In spite of all the time I spent chasing her around and correcting her mistakes, I find myself feeling obligated to her. It’s as if she’s impossible to blame for anything. Before we go our separate ways, I want to send her off properly, but I digress. I presume you’re here snooping for information on how to get at Ritsu’s card, then? Or perhaps to see where I stand?”

Unwilling to gamble on trying to fool someone as sharp as Nodoka, Tsumugi nodded once. There was no point trying to pull a fast one on people who were used to being lied to on a daily basis, and Tsumugi hadn’t gotten to where she was by that method anyways. “Well, I’m sorry to say I have nothing of note to share,” Nodoka admitted, scratching her chin sheepishly. “And even if I did, my position in all of this is neutral. Trying to influence club politics from my position doesn’t reflect well on our school, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

It slightly annoyed Tsumugi that Nodoka had such an airtight excuse not to be helpful, but it assuaged her concerns about Nodoka involving herself in the competition with Ritsu. “If you can’t tell me that, at least tell me what Ritsu is up to, why she’s been meeting with you since our, ah, disagreement,” Tsumugi pressed, unconvinced. “You say she’s not planning anything bad. Is she in trouble? If there’s something wrong, she should tell us.”

At this, the firmness that Nodoka needed to run the student body returned. “It’s nothing like that. Don’t worry about it, Mugi-chan. Ritsu, despite her flaws, is still your club’s president. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that, contrary to what she might say.”

It was a textbook deflective answer, one that told Tsumugi nothing while denying her the opportunity to press further without losing precious ground in the battle for credibility. _Well, if I believe Nodoka-chan when she claims to truly be neutral, then I suppose I can let this go. I should be focusing on my task and nothing else. That’s what’s for the best for everyone. _“I… see. In that case, I’ll let it go for now and come up with another strategy for Ricchan.”

“I wish you luck,” Nodoka encouraged politely. “Was there something else you needed?”

Recalling the desires of her partner, Tsumugi decided to snoop into Azusa’s affairs just one more time. “Yes, actually. This is a bit of a long shot, but Azusa-chan is staying at the Hirasawa household at the moment. Would you happen to know anything that could have caused that?”

For the first time in their conversation, Nodoka appeared to be concerned. The expression she made was wiped away quickly, but Tsumugi couldn’t forget the mix of emotions she’d just borne witness to. “Has she not said anything to you?” Nodoka asked slowly, as if she was being held at gunpoint.

For anyone else, Tsumugi could have lied. Yui and Azusa would likely believe her instantly, and Ritsu and Mio would always listen if you knew how to adjust their moods. Nodoka was a different story. When she was paying attention, her focus was as unflappable as her childhood friend. The only way around such diligence besides blind luck was knowing when she could cede ground and when she could advance on the verbal battlefield. “No. That’s why I want to gather information. I can’t act properly without knowing what’s going on anymore. I made that mistake already.”

“Then I’ll leave it to her to explain,” Nodoka decided firmly, before leaning in from her chair. “But listen carefully: do as you will with the cards, but don’t force Azusa-chan to talk about it if she isn’t ready, and especially if she isn’t staying at home right now. It will only make things more difficult for the five of you, especially Yui.”

Unwilling to elaborate, Nodoka started on the paperwork that had accumulated on her desk just between breaks. Now certain that Nodoka wasn’t telling her something, Tsumugi considered how to press the student council president further. No plan she planted bore fruit. Sensing that she wouldn’t get anywhere, Tsumugi bowed politely and took her leave, understanding that she’d been dismissed. As she exited the room, her thoughts clouded, the person she would have killed to see five minutes ago accosted her. “Mugi, I’m so sorry! Nodoka appeared with a message I had to deliver to Onee-chan and I couldn’t ignore it. Were you able to talk to her?”

“Talk to her about what?” Yui asked, standing next to her sister curiously. “Are you meeting with Nodoka-chan now too, Mugi-chan? That’s no fair. I want to have a secret meeting too.” Pouting, Yui kicked at the ground in self-pity.

Relieved at having an excuse not to discuss their arrangement, Tsumugi smiled. “There was no secret, Yui-chan,” Tsumugi lied. “I was simply getting some advice on today’s assignments. Ui-chan, I’d like to discuss them with you as well briefly after school, if you don’t mind. I have a good idea of what we should do next.”

Someone besides Yui might have picked up on the fact that Ui had no reason to care about the assignments of her seniors, but Yui was Yui, nodding and smiling in complete understanding. “Got it! Come on, Ui, let’s go say hi to Azu-nyan before lunch ends!”

Ui barely managed to get out a word of agreement to Tsumugi’s plan before her sister dragged her back to her classroom. Tsumugi smiled to herself. No matter the reason, seeing Yui act like Yui was reassuring. _This is the family I have to protect. It’s not just about the four of us. Something has happened to Azusa-chan too. This case is bigger than me. I’ll have to end it sooner rather than later, and to do that, I need a one more piece of information. I’ll have to get it as soon as school ends. _Tsumugi started back towards her classroom, the next text to Ui already forming in her mind. _If my hunches are correct, I can end everything in one fell swoop without having to do it like a Kotobuki. There’s still several outlying issues, but everything comes before seeing the cards of the others. As long as I do that, they’ll be happy. Ui and Nodoka-chan, maybe even Sawa-chan too. Just hold on, everyone. _As she returned to her classroom to retrieve her lunch, Tsumugi realized her hand had stopped hurting.

* * *

**November 22nd, Just After School **

The timing had to be perfect. Tsumugi stealthily kept her eyes trained on her quarry as the rest of the students began to file out of the classroom. The chaos of the end of the school day was a decent cover, but Tsumugi had two other variables to consider before she could isolate the target. Fortunately, Ui had complete control over one of those variables. One text message was all it took for Yui to pop out of her seat and dart out of the room with rushed goodbyes. Apologizing silently to Azusa and thanking Ui in her head, Tsumugi retrained her gaze on Mio. The bassist was talking with Ritsu, who hadn’t bothered to rise from her desk yet, the two animatedly arguing about something. Cautiously, Tsumugi wondered if she should interfere or wait it out. If it was one of their normal arguments, she’d be able to separate them with little fuss, but if they were arguing about something important, she’d only make things worse and blow her chance in the best case scenario. Tsumugi clenched her good hand into a fist as she feigned being busy with her bags. _I’ve come too far to back out now. If I want to join them again without hesitation, I have a case to solve. _As Mio sighed to herself and turned away from Ritsu, Tsumugi made her move. Striding over to the bassist, Tsumugi clasped a firm hand on Mio’s shoulder, startling her badly. “Mio-chan, can you come with me? I need your help with something before going to the clubroom, if you don’t mind.”

When she got over her shock, Mio frowned. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ritsu beat her to it. “Ne, what am I missing out on? First Yui, then you want to take Mio out back for a private session. Mio, you aren’t doing anything weird behind my back, are you? Show me your card to prove you’re innocent.”

Mio blushed angrily as Ritsu’s accusation drew the room’s eyes to her. “Baka! How would I know? Come on, Mugi-chan, let’s go anywhere else.”

Though it wasn’t her initial plan, Tsumugi had no qualms with Mio dragging her out of the room as Ritsu looked on impassively. As they exited the classroom, Mio showed no surprise at seeing Ui standing there, phone in hand. The younger sister looked up hopefully when the door opened, only to become puzzled when she saw the inverse of what she expected. Tsumugi managed to shrug and motion Ui along as Mio dragged them to a secluded spot near a flight of stairs. “Mio-chan, did Ricchan really upset you that much?” Tsumugi questioned, forgetting her own purpose momentarily as she straightened her blazer out. “I didn’t realize-“

“There’s plenty of things you didn’t realize,” Mio harshly retorted before she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t get mad about stupid things. It’s just what that baka wants. She’s been insufferable since this whole competition started. I want to throw my card at her to shut her up, but I can’t let her of all people win. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I don’t have a plan to win this. I’ve never beaten Ritsu in a game of stubbornness. Do you have any ideas?”

Tsumugi tilted her head, exchanging a look with Ui. Their carefully laid plans over text were becoming more and more irrelevant with every word Mio spoke. “I’m not sure I understand,” Tsumugi professed. “You want me to make Ricchan lose? For you?”

Mio shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. This is a separate issue from what you said back on the fifteenth. Our cards are probably the most similar, Mugi-chan. If I have to lose, I want you to win, even if your methodology isn’t sound. No, because of that, I have to get you to beat Ritsu. The baka will do whatever it takes to win.”

Tsumugi couldn’t deny that. She’d had more than enough of Ritsu’s careful prodding on the way home yesterday. That wasn’t nearly as important as denying what Mio said. “I want to do it differently now, Mio-chan,” Tsumugi insisted. “That’s why Ui and I wanted to speak with you. We’re trying to resolve this as quickly as possible without hurting anyone’s feelings, right Ui?”

Ui, having followed the conversation tacitly, nodded once. “Onee-chan needs help,” she responded simply.

Mio glanced between the two girls before letting her arms hang limply at her side, defeated. “I don’t think I could stop you two if I wanted to. Yet I don’t want to give up either. Everyone seems so certain that my idea is wrong and theirs is right. I don’t know what to believe in.”

“Believe in the band,” Tsumugi insisted, indicating herself and Mio. “That’s what I’m choosing to believe in. You all are my goal. Believe in that.”

Mio brushed a stray hair from her head. The line brought a dust of pink to her face. “We’re your goal, huh? I wonder if that’s enough.” In an uncharacteristic show of apathy, Mio put her hands behind her head and looked off into the distance. “Well, I haven’t much right to complain, especially if you win. Is there anything else you needed?”

“Ah, do you know anything about what happened to Azusa-chan?” Ui blurted out suddenly, unperturbed by Mio’s attitude shift. “I’m worried about her being so… close to Onee-chan right now. It’s bad for them when they’re confused about things to live together. I saw you talking to Jun-chan earlier. Is that what it was about?”

Mio raised an eyebrow. He expression became uncharacteristically dark. “Ui-chan. I’ll say this once, so listen carefully: don’t mess with what’s going on between Yui-chan and Azusa-chan. Ritsu and I said the same thing to Mugi-chan, and look where it got us when she didn’t listen.” Tsumugi opened her mouth in objection, but closed it as she realized that Mio wasn’t paying her any mind, saving the complaint for a more appropriate time. “Why she decided to stay with you, I don’t know. I met with Jun-chan to tell her off for that prank she pulled on us and Yui-chan yesterday, and I’ll tell you what I told her: romance is for the people involved to figure out. We’re not those people, so please leave it alone. The band doesn’t need another crisis to deal with this week.“

Ui fell silent for a moment, then she folded her arms defiantly. It was interesting, seeing so many different sides of the girl who spent most of her time standing deferentially behind her sister, only showing what could be seen from the front. In a way, Tsumugi could see herself in that face. She could relate to keeping up appearances for the outside world. It was only through the Light Music Club that she’d learned that it was okay to take that mask off for some people again. It helped that Mio’s advice echoed Nodoka’s almost eerily, with just a hint of Ritsu’s old comments. _They’re so adamant about not interfering. I can’t understand it. It’s like saying you don’t want to help someone out of a burning building because you might make the fire worse. _“I will do what’s best for Onee-chan,” Ui decided. “Nobody will sway me from that.”

The bassist sighed. “That’s a dangerous line of thinking. I hope it doesn’t make things worse, Ui-chan. Mugi, I’m going to the clubroom. I can’t let Yui lose to Ritsu yet.” The bassist strode off before Tsumugi could so much as open her mouth.

The heiress and the younger sister stood in the hallway there for a while, not looking at each other or anything else in particular. Their final interrogation of the day had been the shortest and arguably least productive, but Tsumugi still felt she’d gained more than enough to warrant the time spent as she went over the facts in her head. _This is complicated. Mio-chan didn’t ally with Jun-chan as we suspected, but she’s also not giving up, despite not knowing what to do. Yui-chan is a wild card. She could do anything. Ricchan looks like she’s going to be difficult to break, but if I can get her to open up, I’ve as good as won. That being said, she and Nodoka-chan are planning something, Azusa-chan is deflecting attention from her situation, and Ui-chan and I don’t have nearly enough information. Ui-chan. _Tsumugi let her eyes drift over to her friend’s sister._ You know how I feel about your sister and Azusa-chan. Is it that important to you that your sister goes to a good college, with friends? _

“Until now, she’s been happier with you all around,” Ui explained while watching Mio disappear, as if reading Tsumugi’s thoughts. “Onee-chan used to spend all her time lazing around indoors, watching tv and eating food. I suppose that’s still a decent portion of her day, but now there’s music and time with friends besides Nodoka parsed in between all of that. However, since the festival, Onee-chan doesn’t smile as much, and when she does, it’s like she’s putting on a show for my sake. I hate that, that she thinks I can’t tell. Since she started thinking about her future and how she really feels, she hasn’t been happy. I have to alleviate my sister’s fears, as the younger sister. That’s my job.”

Tsumugi took in the trembling bundle of dauntless devotion that was Ui. The poorly controlled anguish in her eyes threatened to tear the heiress’ soul apart, but she remained firm. Her own shadow loomed heavily over the girl in front of her as she placed a hand on Ui’s shoulder. “Ui, It’s okay for Yui-chan to grow up,” Tsumugi told the girl. “I… didn’t want them to grow up either. I thought if I controlled things, maybe they wouldn’t have to grow up and we could keep going as we had. But it fell apart much more quickly than I anticipated. I realized we had to change, I panicked, and I said some things that got people hurt that I regret. I don’t want you to have to pay the price I did to find that truth.” She tightened her grip slightly on Ui’s shoulder.

“This might sound strange, but I think you’re a good detective too. I think you know that if you keep pushing Yui-chan and Azusa-chan and the Light Music Club, they’ll move away from you. Well, maybe not, since it’s them, but it certainly won’t fix anything. As supporters, that’s the worst thing that can happen to us, don’t you think. I want to continue supporting and having fun with everyone. Yui-chan is going to grow up, but she’s never going to leave you behind. Do you understand?”

Ui looked down, refusing to meet Tsumugi’s gaze. “I don’t know,” she responded, shockingly candid. “I just don’t know. I don’t want her to go at all.” It was the most vulnerable Tsumugi had heard Ui, words failing the heiress.

Buying time to think, Tsumugi began to pace around the hall, staying close enough to avoid getting swept away by the foot traffic from the day’s end. As she walked, she thought aloud. “Our goal was to find the reasoning behind our friend’s actions in order to determine the best way to make them see our point of view. With what I’ve learned, I think I have a pretty good idea of everyone’s motivations. The only remaining question is what we should do with that information.”

Ui looked up suddenly, her interest piqued. “You know why Azusa-chan is at my house?” she questioned incredulously.

“I don’t know anything for certain,” Tsumugi admitted. “It’s my intuition as a detective. If I stop trusting that again, I have nothing. Now, I can act while accounting for everyone’s feelings instead of my own. It’s freeing, in a way.”

Ui continued to stare down Tsumugi, her unasked question searing through the detective, clawing at her heart for an answer Tsumugi couldn’t give. The heiress frowned._ Is it the right thing to do to act here? No, Ui-chan shouldn’t hear this from me, and I don’t know if what I was told is accurate. Regardless of how the definition of our band shifts, I have to remain standing for them. I stumbled, but I can’t fall. These girls aren’t my dolls, and I have to prove I can stand with them. _“They’re my family,” Tsumugi whispered, enrapturing Ui’s full attention. “Whether they feel the same way or not, it’s how I feel. I realize now that the only way to keep our family together is for us to come to an agreement, even if that agreement isn’t necessarily what everyone wants.”

Ui trembled slightly. Tsumugi herself felt as if the hall somehow grew quieter over her declaration. “Mugi, what are you saying? You’re implying that-“

“I might lose?” Tsumugi finished for her with a small smile. “Perhaps. I certainly hope not, but I’m not a mind reader.”

In response, Ui’s hands clenched into fists. She dug into her bag, withdrawing an index card that she handed to Tsumugi. Though the card caused Tsumugi’s heart to skip a beat, she relaxed when she recognized Ui’s distinctive penmanship. “Hokago Tea Time has five members,” Tsumugi read aloud. “I certainly hope so. If not, someone has some explaining to do.”

The attempt at easing the tension fell flat. “I copied what was on Onee-chan’s card, Mugi,” Ui admitted tersely. “She thinks she can finds some way to bring all five of you with her next year, with no plan, no idea what to do, and an end goal as flimsy as this. It’s endearing, but impossible. More importantly, Onee-chan is really convincing. If you let her win, I-“

Stepping forward swiftly, Tsumugi placed a finger on Ui’s lips to silence her. The intimate nature of the action was offset by Tsumugi’s deadly serious tone. “Ui, I didn’t say that. I’m going to make things work out for your sake, too. You’re going to have to trust me. I have your sister’s best interests at heart too. Can’t you trust me?”

Ui and Tsumugi held eye contact as Tsumugi removed her finger. For a moment, Tsumugi was terrified that she’d be denied. _I did it again. I got aggressive. I’m a moron and Ui is nodding? _“I already said I’d trust you, senpai. For the first time, learning what to do hasn’t come easy to me. It’s terrifying, and that’s why I need your help. But to do that, I need to know what’s going on with Azusa-chan, and once someone wins I won’t be able to ignore that issue any longer. People are already talking more about those two because they came to school together.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude to the point that she missed most of what Ui was saying, Tsumugi nodded enthusiastically while clapping her hands together. “Thank you, truly, Ui. I’m relieved that I can count on you. I’ll be contacting you later tonight to help me formulate a plan. Please prepare yourself.”

It felt like there was plenty more for both girls to say, but both girls decided it could wait for the phone tonight. As the two parted ways, Tsumugi’s steps felt just a bit lighter. Even a somewhat awkward teatime where nobody knew exactly what to say except for Sawako, who continually prodded people for updates they wouldn’t give couldn’t damper her spirits. Knowing she would be able to deliver the band from this uncertainty brought much-needed purpose to every action she took, something she’d lacked since her injury. She could still feel the invisible wall between her and the others, especially Ritsu and Mio, the relegation to the background wrought by her own decision to shatter their trust, but the despair that had assaulted her from the bleak thoughts was gone. There was something she and only she could do, and that was be Hokago Tea Time’s keyboardist. As long as she found a way to help her family make up, everything would be fine.

Arriving home with this sentiment in mind, Tsumugi was startled to see a statue standing stoically at her front door. Hiding her unease before she opened the car door, Tsumugi approached her father. “Father, is something the matter?” she asked, bowing slightly.

“I’ve been told that you visited his grave again,” The man noted idly. “Clinging onto the past like that is dangerous.”

Yesterday, that would have been the end of the conversation, maybe with some throwaway line of deference. Today, somewhere within her, Tsumugi felt a voice for the years of pent-up indignation within her appear. “I simply don’t wish to repeat history, father,” Tsumugi replied evenly.

The man took a drag of a cigarette he’d evidently already spent some intimate time with. “So you visited on the wrong date?” he pressed.

“I have plans on the 27th,” Tsumugi answered, begging her newfound resolve not to crack under the pressure. “Are you going to see mother?”

“Hm,” he responded without actually responding before walking past his daughter to the limousine waiting for him. “Tell the staff not to wait up for me.”

Watching the man speed away, Tsumugi wanted to scream at her father, then herself. She wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed that the conversation had been so short or if her father hadn’t bothered to ask what her plans were or that he’d ignored her. She made her way into her room, using the code only she knew to get in and flopping down into the privacy of her bed. There was still a bit of time before she was to contact Ui, giving Tsumugi ample opportunity to complete the homework she’d accrued outside of her awareness. Once she settled into her desk, she allowed her mind to wander as she addressed menial problem after problem while the hours slipped away. _It’s always like this. I get so wrapped up in what I believe is most important I forget the rest of the world is moving. I can see the big picture. That’s how I was raised, to ignore the trees and look at the forest. But the trees are important too. To be the support the band needs, to be something other than what they want me to be, to have a choice in life, I can’t be a Kotobuki. I can’t be like father or mother, and they have to understand that too. I’m not like you, father. _As punctuation to this statement, Tsumugi finished her last paper and immediately began to dial up her partner. _Tomorrow, I’m going to prove it. By the end of tomorrow, this case will be closed._

* * *

**November 22nd, the Hirasawa Household **

As Azusa poured the tea into three identical cups, she realized just how long it had been since she’d actually brewed tea. Despite knowing how to do so and even having her ability professed by her mother, the last time she’d made tea had been for Yui a few weeks ago, and she hadn’t even had the chance to make tea for the band since the cultural festival. The audience still remained limited to Hirasawas, but Azusa took comfort in the knowledge that she was able to contribute something to the people she was freeloading with. Their company was a far cry from the awkward atmosphere of the club’s teatime in any case. Though nobody had mentioned it, Azusa knew they all knew where she was right now. On top of that, they’d apparently started some sort of competition to determine their futures. It was exactly the sort of thing Azusa would expect her childish senpais to do, even if it disappointed her a bit. _That’s not fair. They’re absolutely right in not giving me a stake in picking their future for them. It’s not that I don’t belong with them. I believe that. I can prove to them that I’m strong enough to handle that. I might have to get used to being alone. _It was no longer a wild thought, but it still stung as Azusa let the idea invade her mind again. “You don’t have to help, Azusa-chan. You’re our guest. I’m used to taking care of dinner by myself,” Ui explained as she busied herself with the stew she was making.

With a smile, Azusa shook her head at her younger host. The duo had exchanged their uniforms for more comfortable around the house wear, in Azusa’s case one of the only cohesive outfits she’d thought to pack in her rush to leave yesterday. “It’s fine, Ui-chan. I want to be helpful, since you’re both being kind enough to let me freeload here.” Doing menial work to keep her mind off of why she was here in the first place was another benefit, but Azusa couldn’t exactly share it with her host. “I really can’t thank you enough for letting me intrude here for now. It means a lot. I know I’m being unreasonable.”

“Well, your parents are fine with it, and mine aren’t home,” Ui responded with startling indifference before smiling in an attempt to make up for it. “As long as that doesn’t change, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

Somehow, Ui’s invitation wasn’t quite as welcoming as the bear hug Azusa had received when she’d opened the door last night. She hadn’t expected it to be difficult to convince Yui to let her stay without a reason, but the fact that Ui had gone this long without pressing her left her uncertain where her friend’s head was at. Only small hints, a side-eye here or a moment of hesitation there had been Ui’s tells that she was uncomfortable. It didn’t help that she’d spent most of the evening on the phone. Deciding to take the initiative as she sneaked a sip of her tea, Azusa bowed to Ui as the younger sister stirred a pot that contained their supper. “Look, I know you have your concerns, but I don’t want anyone to worry about me. That’s, um, part of doing my best, so I just need to be here for a few days. You know this isn’t how I would operate if I was just trying to make a move on Yui-senpai, which I am not and will not be doing.” Putting out such a lame defense didn’t feel great, but Azusa hoped her conviction could make up for the lack of strength her words had on their own.

Pausing with her knife hovering over a carrot, Ui’s features were impossible to read as she chopped downwards. “You make it hard to be mad at you. I know I’m being an overprotective little sister, but this is Onee-chan’s future, and you know how she is. It’s hard enough getting her out of bed in the morning, let alone having her choose a career. It’s because I trust you that I haven’t said anything yet, but I would like to know what’s going on soon, as your friend before anything else.”

The sentiment was genuine. Azusa didn’t have to try to read the concern in Ui’s eyes, and it made her feel dirty for suspecting the girl of wanting to kick her out. “I appreciate it, Ui-chan. It’s frustrating for me too, but I need some time to sort things out and make a plan. Once I know what the winning move is, you and Yui-senpai will be the first to know.”

“Does that mean you’re putting the date on hold?” Ui presumed out of nowhere, sliding the carrots into the pot with her knife. “That would be best, wouldn’t you think? Onee-chan’s birthday is coming up too.” There was an implication that the two events couldn’t coexist in Ui’s tone, something Azusa wasn’t sure how to feel about.

Azusa hesitated, which wasn’t what Ui wanted. To respond with anything but certainty would be suicidal given what she’d just claimed, but at the same time, Azusa wasn’t about to lie to Ui’s face if she could help it. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, choosing the lesser of two evils. “The way I feel about Yui-senpai is complicated and confusing. It was supposed to be so clear, then she had to go and mess everything up by confessing. She just threw open a door I hadn’t even realized existed. I wasn’t ready. I still don’t know if I’m ready to accept that it’s there.”

“Do you have feelings for Onee-chan?” Ui interrupted bluntly as she opened the fridge.

Azusa blinked. It was the same question Ui had asked her on the 16th, in the dying light with a hearth in her eyes burning away the fluorescent light surrounding her as she confronted the girl her sister supposedly had feelings for. Glancing up towards the ceiling, Azusa could faintly hear said sister practicing something on her guitar, blissfully unaware of the tension bubbling underneath her. _I said no then. I should say no now, right? Ui-chan has been the one giving me advice up to this point. I can have faith in her, right? If I can talk to Jun-chan, I should be able to talk to Ui-chan. _“I have feelings, but I don’t know what kind. I love the band and the Light Music Club. Being around them is when I’m happiest, even if they are all lazy and sometimes insufferable. It’s because of that that I can’t figure out why Yui-senpai is different. Her hugs used to be so annoying, but now I keep thinking about them. How am I supposed to put it? She’s warm? Mou, I don’t know. It defies explanation. I have this urge to help her with my problems, to tell her anything because I know she’ll listen. She always does her best for us, even me, even when I don’t deserve it. She reminds me of-“ Azusa cut herself off, partially because she realized she didn’t want to finish her sentence, partially because Ui was staring.

“Why… why don’t you let her know dinner is 10 minutes from being ready?” Ui suggested too calmly. “I don’t need any help right now.”

Recognizing that Ui wanted to be alone and that she was still holding a knife, Azusa bowed and walked away quickly. She berated herself as she climbed the stairs, bare feet silently ascending towards the faint sound of music coming from Yui’s room. _You moron. What did you hope to accomplish spouting nonsense like that?! This is why you have to settle things with her once and for all. We’re on a time table now, her and I both. We can’t afford to let this sit forever. _This thought was eliminated from Azusa’s mind when she recognized what Yui was attempting to play.

Time slowed for the kouhai as her father’s voice reached out to her. It wasn’t the voice of the father she currently had, rather the one who’d introduced her to music in the first place, the easygoing man who’d rather spend the day fiddling with his guitar than talking to other people. It was soothing, reassuring, and it brought Azusa’s movement to a halt in Yui’s doorway. The senior was sitting cross-legged on her bed, intensely focused on recreating the piece Azusa knew by heart. It was supposedly for her, after all. Hearing her father’s words through Yui’s mouth was doing little to clear up the confusion in Azusa’s mind. Azusa had been more than a little shocked when he’d broken the piece out during the dinner, the soothing melody momentarily causing her to forget herself, to chase her father’s sound blindly until Yui stopped her. The same siren call compelled her even now, drawing her feet forward as Yui reproduced her father’s melody with terrifying accuracy. Fortunately or unfortunately, the song cut off right at the climax, Yui heaving a sigh as she brought herself and Azusa back down to reality. When the senior noticed she had company, she panicked, hastily removing her guitar and setting it at her side. “Azu-nyan? Am I being too loud again? Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop.”

Realizing that she was being talked to, Azusa started. “Eh? Oh, no, it’s fine senpai. I just wanted to let you know dinner is in ten minutes. Why didn’t you finish the song?”

Shooting Giita a look, Yui leaned back on her hands. “Mou, I can’t. I’ve been trying for a while, Azu-nyan, but I just can’t remember what happens after that point. It’s all blank. The problem is that I feel like it was important. I know I forget things a lot, but I think I really needed to remember this. Do you know how the song ends, Azu-nyan?”

Azusa couldn’t tell if Yui suspected that she knew or was just asking out of convenience. Either way, Azusa could feel her heartbeat quicken. “It’s a sad song,” Azusa answered, changing the subject. “I don’t know why you’d care so much about something like that.”

“So you do know it?” Yui noted, perking up as Azusa cursed Yui for choosing now to be attentive to what was happening around her. “Azu-nyan, teach me! I really want to know!”

Noticing her mistake did nothing to fix it. Darting her gaze around the room for an out, Azusa settled on the papers piled on Yui’s desk. “Should you be playing when you still haven’t finished your homework?” Azusa chided, motioning towards Yui’s desk. “You can’t ruin your chance to graduate right at the finish line, senpai.”

“I know, I know,” Yui dismissed as easily as she had the threatening pile of work on her desk. “I’ll get it done before it’s due. Don’t worry, Azu-nyan.”

“Of course I worry,” Azusa countered, walking over to the desk. “Mou, you even left your card over here. Are you going to-hey!”

Azusa grunted in surprise as Yui darted forward, snatching her card up before Azusa could pick it up. “Azu-nyan, you can’t! If you see that card, I’ll lose!” she insisted, backpedaling to the bed almost as fast as she had approached.

Confused, Azusa cocked her head to one side. “What are you talking about? I’m not part of your game. It doesn’t matter if I see the card or not.”

“It does!” Yui retorted, stamping a foot in uncharacteristic anger. “As long as I can win, you’re in this competition too, Azu-nyan. You need to realize that you’re good enough to be part of this band too!”

It was apparent that Yui wouldn’t budge on this issue. Loathe as she was to simply submit to the airhead’s whims, especially when she could see how hard she was averting her gaze from reality, Azusa didn’t want to start an argument she couldn’t win. _Besides, she’s not the only one who doesn’t want to accept it. _The thought reminded Azusa that she wasn’t supposed to be here, so she decided to end the subject. “It’s up to you and the others,” Azusa decided, feigning disinterest. “It would be wrong of me to get directly involved.”

“Why?” Yui thought aloud, sitting down on her bed. “Ui-chan is helping Mugi-chan, right?”

Startled that Yui was both aware of that and didn’t seem to care, Azusa approached the bed to stand over her senior. “You know that and you’re still interested in competing against her?” Azusa questioned dubiously. “I don’t understand you, senpai.”

“I don’t understand you either, Azu-nyan,” Yui retorted. “Why wouldn’t I want to do something that seemed like fun? Competing can be fun, though I don’t know how well I can do against everyone else, eheh.” There was little mirth in the laughter, like Yui was using it to fill space as she came up with a better excuse.

That Yui didn’t appear to be taking this seriously at all somehow enraged Azusa. It was exactly what she should expect from her senpai, and yet the clenching of her fists told her she was privately pulling for a different outcome. Unwilling to stare at the innocently confused expression on Yui’s face any longer, Azusa made her way to the foot of the bed and sat against it, taking up the space Giita would occupy if he wasn’t lounging on Yui’s bed. Her head rested against the bedframe, staring at an ocean of pink. It took nearly a full minute for Azusa to vent what was really on her mind. “We just haven’t been in sync since the festival,” Azusa spoke softly. “Since then, it’s like you’re all different people. Nothing makes sense. Now you’re trying to decide your future, and it’s like you don’t even care. I can’t understand it. I want to help, but I know I can’t, and that upsets me. Worse, I’m here imposing on you. It’s the opposite of what I should be doing, isn’t it, senpai?”

There was no response. Azusa began to wonder if she was being ignored. Only when she looked up did she realize that Yui had shifted on her bed to look down at her. The two guitarists stared at each other, Azusa’s lost eyes meeting Yui’s brilliant knowing ones. For an instant, Azusa flashed back to the bridge. These were the eyes that told her they were in love with her. The kouhai blinked. _I still shouldn’t take it seriously. We’re barely adults. We don’t know the first thing about love, Yui especially. It’s reckless to even want to be in love. Yui is reckless. _“I want life to be fun,” Yui informed her kouhai. “I’m selfish. I want to have fun with you all because you’re more fun than anyone else. You think this is fun, don’t you?”

Azusa had no idea how she was supposed to answer that question. She almost felt like she was dreaming, or even playing guitar. The longer she stared, the fuzzier Yui’s features became, like she was staring at a blurry photograph of an event that hadn’t happened. She resisted the temptation to physically confirm this phenomenon. “You’re the opposite of a senpai,” Azusa answered, sidestepping the question. “Any other senpai would have berated their kouhai for behavior like this, for even entertaining the idea that fun should have a factor in looking for future success. I don’t understand why you’re trying to win, senpai.” That Azusa had to even question if she believed what she was saying spoke volumes about how her perspective had changed in just the last week.

Flagrantly disregarding Azusa’s desire for discipline, Yui smiled kindly at her kouhai. “I told you, Azu-nyan, I want to win because I’m selfish and want to win for you,” Yui explained gently. “If you want me to be upset, then I’m upset because Azu-nyan still won’t cut herself some slack and let herself be happy with us. Azu-nyan energy is stronger when Azu-nyan is happy. Did you know that? I did.” To prove her point, Yui held out a hand over the bed invitingly.

Uncertain, Azusa started to reach her hand out then paused, like a cat preparing to bat at a toy. _I shouldn’t be encouraging her delusion. I shouldn’t take her hand. It would just end up being bad for both of us in the long run. But it would probably feel warm. When I spend time with Yui, she’s annoying, makes me do extra work to keep her on track, puts stickers on my stuff, and lazes around instead of getting anything done. And I spent two years with her and the others. Why, because I had no other choice? No. The music we made was special. I can’t pretend it didn’t touch me in the way music is supposed to touch people. I didn’t want to move from that feeling. Now I’ve been here so long I’m starting to think about Yui like… _Azusa’s thoughts momentarily stalled as her fingers clawed at air, waiting for the command to advance. _Something other than a senpai. I don’t know what. I’ve never felt romantically about anyone before. How am I supposed to know how this sort of thing works? Isn’t simply wanting to be around Yui all it is? _Noticing Azusa’s hesitation, Yui reached forward and took Azusa’s hand for her. “Azu-nyan needs energy too,” Yui mumbled in content as she sank into her bed.

For perhaps the first time, Azusa could feel a modicum of what Yui meant. Holding Yui’s hand again energized her, the same feeling she’d felt so many times, that she would have expected to feel so awkward or even mundane after the numerous hugs and Yui’s own profession of love, now in some strange new light. It was warm and wonderful and fleeting, another cake she would have to cut and consume eventually. “We can’t do this forever,” Azusa muttered, her mind still going through the dying throes of resistance to indulgence.

“Then we should make the time we have count,” Yui responded, sounding wiser than Azusa could have possibly expected.

That Yui understood the ethereal nature of their remaining time wasn’t something Azusa had considered. She’d assumed Yui was simply trying to ignore the future by writing something foolish on her card, some impossible dream she somehow wouldn’t wake up from. If that were true, however, then someone like Yui shouldn’t care about the competition in the first place. She truly believed that she could do something impossible if she won, or at least try to do so. Knowing Yui had such a drive within her invigorated Azusa. For the first time since the confession, she felt as if she was talking to Yui, the wall she’d had up since the 16th coming down, just for her. Newfound respect for Yui welled up within the kouhai, their bond shared on a level far beyond the physical, one that could ignore even the reality of graduation and the future. Were they to start playing right now, Azusa figured they’d be in perfect sync. Instead, her hand being stroked gently in Yui’s, the kouhai stared at a wall of pink with her only connection to the world an airhead that might float away if she let go. For a time, Azusa Nakano wondered if she understood Yui Hirasawa better than she thought.

Reality in the form of Ui cleared her throat. Azusa started, reclaiming her hand quickly with a blush. She didn’t know how long she’d zoned out for, or how long Ui had been standing there, but the expression on her face wasn’t promising. “Dinner’s ready,” Ui cheerlessly informed the pair.

“Yay, food!” Yui exclaimed, forgetting the other two loves of her life to rush for the door as if nothing happened.

Azusa followed uncertainly, trying to ignore the searching look she was receiving from Ui. Only when she made it to the stairs did she realize her eyes were watering. Drying her eyes rapidly, Azusa joined Yui at the kitchen table for dinner. Despite the obvious mistrust Ui was foisting upon her friend, dinner was rather pleasant. Yui kept conversation flowing effortlessly around mouthfuls of delicious food, and Azusa even allowed herself to relax a little, at least until the meal was complete and the dishes cleaned. It was at this point Ui pulled out her phone, holding it up to Azusa as Yui continued to clear the table abnormally jovially. “I’m going to update your parents, let them know you’re doing alright,” she casually mentioned. “Did you want to talk to them?” It was almost a challenge by the way she phrased it.

A small part of Azusa said yes, but she quieted it immediately. “Maybe another day,” Azusa denied, already turning away. “Just tell them I’m not ready to go back yet.”

“Okay. I hope you contact them soon, Azusa-chan.” Azusa could feel Ui’s eyes burning though her as she dialed the phone, but she didn’t turn around.

_I can’t talk to them right now. I don’t know what I want. _The reason for this problem was currently humming U&I to herself as she attempted to pick up 4 plates at once.

Moving quickly to help her senpai, Azusa and Yui finished the dishes as Ui made her report. Though there was marked tension in the air, Yui kept things pleasant until everyone was ready for bed, Azusa sleeping in the same sleeping bag she’d used a week ago in the living room. Under the cover of darkness, Azusa stared at her hand. _Why do you make my heart beat so fast, Yui? What’s special about you? That’s a dumb question. I know that answer at least. But accepting that means it’s already too late to do anything. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. A clean break might have been more effective. _The emotional side of Azusa voiced its explicit disapproval, insisting that she had to fight to defend the feeling she’d found.

_It’s about more than her. I don’t want to lose anything. Ui, Jun, the band, Yui. I’ll never see any of them again soon. I don’t want to go either. _Being around the others only drew that feeling out of her that much more strongly. _I have to tell them the truth. If I hold on to things any longer, I’m risking damaging my relationship with the others, especially Ui. If… if I’m going to entertain the idea of a date, I have to be as upfront as possible. If Yui is going to entertain the impossible, then maybe I will too._


	23. We're going to play at Budokan.

**November 23rd, Class 2-1**

_“I know why you’re here.” _

It shouldn’t matter whether that was true or not. Were Azusa to cling to the resolve her mentally inebriated state had mustered the previous night, mired in a muddy haze of confounding sensations that denied her justification for her actions, she’d have only to stay her current course. Silver-tongued lines floated though her head, reminders of what she’d promised herself she’d told herself she’d do as the bell signaling the first break echoed dully in her ears. _Pathetic. Everything I tell myself I’ll do fades away as soon as I get faced with the prospect of actually doing it. I’m too scared of being wrong, is that it? That doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t care about that, especially around them. _Heaving a sigh, Azusa busied herself with putting her pointless notes away. _Nothing good will come of mulling over it. I’m only here to make sure my senpais get their affairs in order. I shouldn’t have any other priorities._

“I didn’t realize honeymoon periods were this short. Trouble in paradise already, hm?” Jun teased, appearing by Azusa’s desk like clockwork. “You know our dear, wonderful, not-annoying-at-all classmates are having a field day with you since you keep going out of your way to be seen next to Yui, right? Almost makes me glad I don’t have friends. Besides Ui of course. Oh, and you’re here too. You are holding up, right? Try not to let it get to you. People just run out of entertainment when seniors quit their clubs, I think. Even the Hirasawa doesn’t seem to want any part in the limelight.”

Just sensing Jun’s presence had been enough for Azusa’s expression to become cross, the bassist’s words only stoking Azusa’s irritation in the way very few people could. Since discovering Azusa’s change in living conditions, the bassist had taken every opportunity to mercilessly tease her friend over the situation. A full lecture in the morning on the situation and the importance of tact in situations like this had done effectually nothing to stymie Jun’s passion for being a nuisance. Only the genuine concern baked within Jun’s tone stayed Azusa’s biting response to the breaking wave that had just crashed into her. However lacking her methodology was, Azusa could at least tell Jun cared enough to ask about her. It was when Jun stopped talking that Azusa knew something was terribly wrong. “Mou, it’s not like that,” Azusa deflected, sitting up in her chair. “Yui-senpai and I-“

“Who cares about her?” Jun cut in, waving a hand towards the door. “I’m talking about the one who’s actively avoiding you. Did you steal her dessert at dinner or something?”

Jolted into an alert state, Azusa snapped her gaze to the classroom door just in time to catch Ui’s retreating figure. Had Jun not called it out, Azusa would surely have missed it among the organized chaos of the other dispersing students. The aversive behavior confused the kouhai. Such an overt shunning wasn’t Ui’s traditional method of dealing with problems. The little prodigy usually settled what few issues her universe had with words or learning some skill people would spend months just trying to understand. _And unless she’s been reading books on the Yakuza’s intimidation tactics, her borderline threat from this morning doesn’t make much sense either. If she knows why I’m here, someone told her. I doubt it was my parents, which means something else is going on. Someone else knows. _“She told me that she knows why I’m staying with her this morning and she’s barely spoken to me since then,” Azusa explained, shrugging over the chatter of their class. “I think Yui-senpai noticed something was off too, but she didn’t push the issue with her.” Recalling the vexing behavior brought Azusa’s chin to rest in her palm, supported by her elbows on her desk.

Snatching a seat left vacant by a classmate, Jun sat backwards facing her friend, digging a small carton of juice out of her pocket. Puncturing a hole in it before she even inserted the straw, Jun offered the drink to her friend. Making a humming sound that resembled approval was enough to convince Jun to stick the carton close enough for Azusa to drink from it. The guitarist sighed in content as the juice refreshed her very being. It was room temperature and Azusa couldn’t shake the question of how long Jun had had it stored in her pocket for from her mind, but the thought behind the gesture was more than enough to smooth over these issues. “Thanks,” Azusa mumbled gratefully. “Juice is good.”

“Indeed,” Jun agreed with a cheeky smile. “You see, if other people thought like you, they’d realize they don’t actually need a bunch of friends, they just need one good friend with access to juice. And in exchange, I get to steal your food when you’re not paying attention. Everyone wins!”

Narrowing her eyes, Azusa pulled her head away from Jun’s now less-than-enticing juice offer. “Is that everything our friendship is based on?” she presumed playfully. “And here I was just starting to appreciate you more for sticking around with me through this month.”

As Azusa partially expected, Jun paled and backpedaled immediately. “Hold on now, let’s go back to you appreciating me. My ego survives on moments like this, Azusa, come on. You know I’d never ever completely turn my back on you, right? You’re my only source of food!”

If that were actually true, Azusa might have felt depressed. Instead, seeing Jun’s exposed head as the bassist slumped against Azusa’s desk gave her an idea. Hesitantly at first, then with a bit more confidence, the guitarist reached out and gave Jun a few swift, stiff pats on the head. Her technique was probably terrible, but Jun smiled up at her nonetheless. “And just like that, I’m fine again,” she declared, sitting up straight once more. “I can see why you let your senpais do that. It feels nice.”

“I don’t let them do that!” Azusa protested too loudly. “It just sort of… happens. Besides, we’re getting off topic. We were talking about Ui-chan.” 

Wholly disinterested, Jun took a sip of her juice box as she talked around the straw. It startled Azusa that she was more concerned about the diminishing contents of the container than the fact that she was now sharing a straw with the bassist, but she didn’t have the time to dwell on it. “What she’s doing is just Ui being Ui. You probably know this, but she’s actually terrible at effectively communicating when she has to justify her involvement in her sister’s life. She either freezes up or just avoids you completely until she thinks you’ve forgotten about it. You know, in middle school, she forgot my birthday because Yui had some doctor’s appointment or something, only to apologize over a month later, apparently having been agonizing over it that entire time thinking of a way to make it up to me. She’d have gone as far as to plan an entire party had I not stopped her. Makes me feel bad, thinking about it, but maybe that’s just a side effect of her being so good at doing things. When she messes up, she takes it really hard.” Jun fell quiet as she downed the remainder of her juice box, her nostalgic smile fading into something moodier.

Azusa took this anecdote in silently. _Related to Yui, huh? I did know that. I probably should have expected this kind of reaction. I don’t know how I’d feel if someone started making moves on one of my friends or senpais. If someone else was hitting on Yui I’d… _Blinking rapidly, Azusa withheld a blush at the vehement string of insults she’d just lobbed at her imaginary competition. _Mou. Just another reason I can’t let things go on without doing something. I’ve gotta get some closure before I go crazy._

“If that’s the case, I suppose it’s okay then. I’m almost more surprised you haven’t asked why I’m staying with them yourself,” Azusa admitted, unsure if this was the right direction to steer conversation.

A shameless smirk from Jun was not an encouraging sign that Azusa’s decision was correct. “While I’m sure the reasoning the rumor mill has come up with is only slightly more exciting than the truth, I know you well enough to know that I won’t get anything worthwhile out of pressing grouchy Azusa. If there’s something she needed my help with, I’m sure she’d tell me.”

There was a hint of challenge in Jun’s tone, one that Azusa picked up on as she lifted her head to meet Jun’s eyes evenly. “Is that right? So you won’t even try?” she accused, knowing full well she was being goaded and continuing anyways. “Is it more enjoyable for you to just poke fun at what’s happening instead?”

“Hey, no need to get defensive, I jest only because I care,” Jun justified rapidly, pressing her hands together briefly in a plea for mercy. “I think the real reason is I don’t want you to tell me right now, though.”

Intrigued by the response, Azusa leaned in closer to the bassist. Ever aware of the eyes of her classmates, she lowered her voice, motioning for Jun to do the same. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If I pushed you hard enough, I think you’d actually tell me, and I don’t want to ruin my image of you as the most stubborn person I know,” Jun replied, somehow completely serious. “I mean, staying in the Light Music Club for so long is probably more than enough proof of that, but a girl has to be able to fantasize, right?” A wink did nothing for Jun’s girlish charm.

Azusa’s face fell, unable to hide her disappointment as she sat back in her chair. “You think I’m more stubborn than Ui-chan? You’ve seen how she behaves around Yui-senpai, right?” The idea that Azusa could be seen as having that level of single-minded devotion to anything was somewhat frightening to the kouhai. She didn’t even want to be seen as focusing on guitar the way Ui focused on her sister.

Tsking, Jun wagged a finger in the cramped space between the two girls. “I’ve seen how both of you behave around that idiot, and you’d probably be shocked at how well you’re wrapped around her finger. There’s two different kinds of stubborn,” Jun explained condescendingly. “One is loyalty, which is what our dear friend Ui has in unfailing amounts for her sister, and the other is determination, which is what you have for yourself and in denying that you’re in the closet. Or at least, you did until the festival. Now you’re about as determined for that first thing as a deflated balloon in a needle emporium. I just don’t really want to confirm that for myself.” Content with her lecture, Jun leaned back against her borrowed desk.

Sighing, Azusa leaned back as well, staring at the same ceiling she’d been under for nearly a year now. There were plenty of things she could have said to defend herself, but the setting was terrible and Azusa had no intention of starting an argument. _Is it a good thing that I’m getting used to these accusations? Or maybe it’s just my perspective on Jun’s method of approaching the issue that’s changing. _“You’re great at this whole cheering people up thing, aren’t you?” she sarcastically complimented. “I don’t know what you’re seeing in me, but it hasn’t gone anywhere. If I wanted to move from the Light Music Club, I would have.”

“I know,” Jun replied easily, her expression implying the same absolute conviction her words did. “And you should know that I support you in that, be it with brilliant and funny jokes or brilliant and delicious juice. I don’t have much to offer besides that, but I would like to make sure you actually believe in what you’re doing. As long as that’s true, you can always say I’m on your side.”

The unwavering determination, an echo of her declaration from their lunch on Sunday, bathed Azusa in a familiar wave of comfort. Hearing that Jun was on her side was more reassuring than the kouhai expected, a miraculous island appearing out of nowhere to save her from drowning in her own thoughts. One question clung to Azusa as she dried herself off on the shoreline Jun had created for her. “Why though? Haven’t you been fed up with me for the past month?” Azusa challenged without thinking, cursing herself as the words left her mouth. “I mean, ah, I’m grateful, really, but I don’t understand. It feels like Ui and I have just been causing problems for you all month.”

Jun chuckled obnoxiously, drawing plenty of unwanted attention to her conversation. This became much more awkward as Jun took the moment to place a hand reassuringly over one of Azusa’s. “To be fair, I’ve definitely profited this month thanks to you and especially Ui. That aside, you don’t give up on a car because it’s out of gas, do you? I think the three of us can be an awesome band next year. For that, I’ll endure mopey Azusa and evasive Ui, at least as long as they know I’m here to help them do something about it. Besides, it’s not like I’m a perfect friend either, though I know I give off that impression all the time.”

The words tore into Azusa’s heart. Promises she couldn’t keep threatened to leave her mouth, promises flimsy enough that a single word from her friend could shatter them. Instead, she simply nodded. “Thank you, Jun-chan. Once my senpais decide what they’re doing for college, I think I’ll be able to turn my attention to the future without regret as well.” _It just might not be in the way you or I want it to. I hope you and Ui-chan will understand. I hope my senpais will understand. I need Yui to understand._

“That’s an ominous way of putting it, but sure,” Jun agreed, giving Azusa’s hand a friendly pat before withdrawing once more. “All I’m asking for in return is that you have some damn faith in me, okay? I’m not trying to imply anything, but if you need somewhere else to go, I’m sure I can come up with a good enough excuse for my folks. I mean, my room is small and we don’t have a guest room, but we could probably work something out. Or maybe not. Actually, we-“ Jun paused when she realized that Azusa was stifling a laugh at her expense.

Folding her arms, Jun pouted as she gave Azusa a disappointed glare. “See if I ever try the reassuring route again,” she huffed. “We’re sticking with the Jun that doesn’t care what other people think for the rest of my life.”

As Azusa calmed down, she found the decency to answer her friend’s question. “No, you have the wrong idea. I’m laughing because seeing you try so hard to cheer me up and help makes me really happy. I’ve said plenty of times that I don’t deserve the friends and senpais I have, Jun-chan. You don’t need to prove that to me. Just being my friend is more than enough for me.”

Fortunately, Azusa’s words managed to draw an equivalent smile out of the bassist. “Well, good, because I’ve decided that’s all you’re getting for the rest of our lives. Oh, uh, look at me. Stare into my eyes. Notice how serious I am. Don’t look away.” Jun opened her eyes wide, determined to enrapture Azusa’s attention completely.

The speed at which Azusa had been yanked out of the present moment to start a staring contest could have given her whiplash. Humoring her friend, Azusa found herself smiling against the creeping feeling of sadness encroaching on her psyche. _Jun-chan is a good friend. She pays attention more than I give her credit for. She noticed Ui’s shift before I did, and she’s really trying to cheer me up. Maybe I should- _Azusa’s thought was cut off by two hands clasping her shoulders firmly.

Letting out a manly shriek, Azusa whirled around to meet the grim visage of her airheaded senpai. Those in the class who weren’t already looking at the senior invading their territory turned around at Azusa’s cry of alarm. When she realized who she was staring at, Azusa’s fear instantly turned into indignation as Jun laughed, apparently having silently worked with the senpai to startle the kouhai. Sparing a dirty look for Jun, Azusa took in her senpai’s appearance. Having expected some sort of mirth over her successful prank, Azusa was left confounded by the concern in Yui’s eyes and the sturdiness of her grip. _She hasn’t so much as looked in the direction of this classroom all month, and this is when she chooses to show up?! What’s with her attitude, too? She was just trying to scare me, right? _“Azu-nyan, I need you right now,” Yui solemnly declared, jostling her kouhai’s shoulders lightly. “Let’s go.”

One girl in the class gave Azusa an encouraging whistle of approval, which prompted Jun to stand up and storm over in the direction of the offending noise. Still processing how suggestive Yui’s order was, Azusa couldn’t so much as think about how Jun was suddenly playing her and Ui’s role before her senpai had dragged her out the door. “Senpai, slow down!” Azusa protested, jogging until she was able to keep up with Yui’s surprisingly brisk pace, marked by purposeful steps towards her classroom. “What’s going on? What happened? What was that just now?”

Motioning towards her classroom, Yui forged ahead, single-mindedly focused on some point Azusa couldn’t see. “I’m not smart, Azu-nyan,” Yui justified without explaining anything.

This was all Azusa was able to get out of her senpai until they reached her classroom, though not for a lack of trying. Eventually, though, even Azusa’s stubbornness found its impressive limits. Whatever had perturbed Yui such that she felt the need to seek out Azusa so directly had to be important, probably. Thus, her questions could wait until Yui saw fit to answer them. Privately, Azusa couldn’t suppress an iota of pleasure deriving from Yui’s single-minded seeking out of her kouhai to aid her with her problems, something she made a mental note of to analyze later. Though Azusa attempted to stall herself as she approached the entrance to her senpai’s classroom, Yui eradicated the deference Azusa was attempting to show for her seniors by dragging her right inside. Aside from Sawako, who was pretending to prepare a lesson plan while she flipped through a magazine, and Tsumugi, who was standing attentively by Yui’s desk, Azusa didn’t recognize anyone in the room by name. Sadly, this didn’t prevent the eyes of every remaining student in the class from falling on her, more specifically the red ribbon marking her as their junior. This wasn’t even close to the first time Azusa had been in this room, evidenced by some students looking away as they recognized her, but it still embarrassed Azusa to traipse into the lair of her superiors so flagrantly, another reminder that she needed to have a smaller birthday party next year. Fortunately, Yui had no intention of giving Azusa time to feel awkward, herding her kouhai over to where Tsumugi was waiting. “Alright, I brought Azu-nyan,” Yui redundantly told the blonde with a strange amount of pride. “You can keep going, Mugi-chan.”

Tsumugi smiled apologetically to her kouhai and Azusa instantly forgave her for anything she was about to confess to. “My apologies, Azusa-chan. It seems I may have caused Yui-chan to drag you out of your break. I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”

It was becoming very apparent that whatever was happening was much more likely to be some odd Yui thing than an important band future thing. Now more eager to leave than anything else, Azusa nodded along hurriedly. “It’s fine, senpai. Just tell me what’s going on so I can get back. Jun-chan is waiting on me.” A white lie, but one firm enough to force the conversation beyond idle pleasantries.

Understanding the undertones of her kouhai’s answer, Tsumugi continued. “Of course. Well, Yui-chan and I were discussing our cards and the competition while Ricchan and Mio-chan were out. When I asked her why she was so adamant about winning, she insisted that she retrieve you. Do I have that right, Yui-chan?” Tsumugi asked, tossing the focus of the conversation to her friend.

To Azusa’s chagrin, Yui nodded empathetically. “Yeah, that’s it. We were talking about the future, so I thought Azu-nyan should be present if she wasn’t busy.”

Disbelief was etched on the youngest face in the room. “That’s why you yanked me out of class?” Azusa complained. “You didn’t even ask if I was busy! Mou, and here I thought this was an emergency. I can’t believe you sometimes, senpai. Why in the world would I need to be present for this?” Familiar as the berating routine was, Azusa was no less incensed as she vented towards the girl who currently had her ire floating around the palm of her hand.

Yui tilted her head, unable to comprehend Azusa’s anger. “Azu-nyan, I told you that I want to win this game for you. Shouldn’t you be here if I’m having a discussion about my card? We need to strategize or something.” Rapid hand gestures were meant to convey some sort of point to Azusa, but she couldn’t interpret it for the life of her.

Baffled at her senpai’s lack of understanding, Azusa dug her phone out of her pocket. “Even if, by some miracle, that was true, why wouldn’t you just text me? Don’t act like you don’t do it all the time. Please try to think things through sometimes, senpai.” What little enthusiasm Azusa had been able to muster over being kidnapped from her classroom had completely waned.

Pressing her fingers together, Yui frowned. Azusa felt a bit guilty for taking the wind from her invigorated senpai’s sails, but not enough to want to retract her stance on the matter. “I’m just trying to be helpful,” Yui protested meekly. “Don’t you want to win, Azu-nyan?”

Knowing there were plenty of prying eyes on her, Azusa forced herself to refrain from getting too emotional. She couldn’t let Yui’s reckless behavior slide, but she wasn’t about to give her airheaded senpai an embarrassing dressing down from her kouhai in front of all her classmates. “As I keep saying, this is your competition, not mine, senpai. I’ll explain more later, but you shouldn’t factor me into your decisions on your future. Sawako-sensei is trying to get you to stand up for your own dream, understand?”

Sawako threw out a thumbs up from the teacher’s desk without shifting her gaze from her magazine. From another teacher, that might have been reassuring. Instead, the trio more or less ignored Sawako’s input sans Tsumugi smiling at someone who wasn’t looking at her. “I said I like competing, but I don’t want to hurt my friends,” Yui explained, swaying back and forth in place. “When we talked, Mugi-chan said someone is going to get hurt no matter who wins. I don’t want that, so I wanted to get your help. It’s silly, but I don’t know how to solve the problem, even if I can’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I need someone smart about figuring difficult things out like you, Azu-nyan. You can help, right?”

It made little sense to Azusa that Yui suddenly had such a large amount of faith in her, and it didn’t do any good for the burden Azusa was preparing herself to unload this afternoon. “All I said was that it’s unlikely things will end without more conflict if we continue the way we are,” Tsumugi clarified. “Though everyone is cordial enough at the moment, we’re more likely to run out of time to reach a consensus than we are to agree. Personally, I’d be interested to know if you have an idea of how to finish things properly yourself.”

Azusa stalled for time by looking out the window. _They don’t know. I keep forgetting that they’re confused by this problem too. I mean, Yui and I are the same age. That’s weird. She’s my senpai. What was I thinking about? Focus, damn it!_ _You came here to avoid being a problem, not to fight HTT’s battles for everyone. Why would Yui suddenly decide this was our fight? She was supposed to be taking control, for both of us. _Frustrated as she was with Yui’s lackadaisical approach, Azusa couldn’t ignore the truth in Tsumugi’s statement. “Despite that, Mugi-senpai, I can’t accept Yui-senpai simply giving up and letting someone else do this for her. After last night, I thought you really cared about- about this, senpai.” Azusa accused her senpai, stopping just short of indicating herself. “Just because I don’t want to see anyone get hurt doesn’t mean I won’t let you not do what you actually believe is best for yourself. It’s what I’m going to do, so you should too. I know what you might be thinking, but it’s better to just open up about what you really want rather than leave things until it’s too late. You just have to… figure out what those things are.”

“I know what I want, and I know I can’t have it. That’s the problem,” Yui refuted easily, leaning against her desk. “What I think is best is getting your opinion, Azu-nyan. You’re in the band too, ne?”

A strange thought struck Azusa. _Maybe Yui just wants to know why I’m at her house too, but she didn’t want to ask out of consideration, or she forgot in the moment. I mean, that’s the only thing I wanted when I was in her position. I might be overthinking things again. This must be my fault. I need to clear things up so they can focus on each other. That must be what they’re thinking. Mugi-senpai and the others probably feel the same way, Yui’s just the one who decided to do something. I promised to do something for them too. Promise and don’t act. Promise and don’t act. Today I’m going to do something. _“I think I get it. I’ll explain everything during practice today, so promise me you won’t give up until then,” Azusa insisted, getting in her senpai’s face. “Don’t you dare reveal your card, got it? If you can at least do that for today, I’ll help you.”

Yui’s relieved smile was almost enough to make Azusa feel good enough about herself to believe her task was already done. Having such an enervating person consistently make Azusa forget herself and what she was supposed to be doing on a whim had quickly become an infuriating and intriguing experience held together by a yellow hair pin since the two had met. _And now when I look at her, I just keep thinking about how I don’t want to let her down. Am I even thinking about Yui as Yui anymore, or something else? A senpai? I want badly to help the others too, but it’s different. I can clearly see what I have to do for them. It’s impossible to tell if I’m overthinking things. Yui can make anyone smile. Anyone would be attracted to someone who can be as bubbly as she is. But there’s the Yui underneath that too, the one she puts a wall around. What Yui is that? The one that confessed to me? The one behind her playing ability? The one who keeps putting these damn illicit thoughts in my head? Mou. Stick to the plan, Nakano. Get the answers you need and get out, for both of our sakes. _“That sounds vaguely threatening,” Tsumugi pointed out, reminding Azusa that she was there and yanking her out of her contemplation. “Is everything alright, Azusa-chan?”

Undeterred now that the situation had fully brought Azusa into the moment, the kouhai placed her hands on her hips. “Something’s been wrong since the festival,” she stated plainly. “And I’m going to do something about it. After that, it’s up to you all. That’s my plan, and that’s what’s going to happen.”

Patting Azusa on the head once before the kouhai ducked out of the way indignantly, Yui gave a dopey grin to show her agreement. “It’s all we can ask for. Anything to make things more fun, right?”

Tsumugi could only mirror Yui’s smile, a trace of the same relief Azusa had seen on Yui appearing for a brief instant. “Well, that gives me the answer I was looking for. I hope we are able to resolve this matter soon, Yui-chan, Azusa-chan.” The heiress’s eyes flickered between her desk and the clock on the wall.

Sensing that she was short on time, Azusa glanced around like she could find a reason to excuse herself from the room lying around. Before she could solve the problem, Sawako solved it for her, appearing behind the kouhai in an unintentionally menacing manner. “Excuse me, Nakano-san, but the bell will ring soon. You should return to your classroom. You can talk with your friends after school,” the teacher indelicately informed her student, thumbing towards the door.

Nodding gratefully to Sawako wasn’t what Azusa had planned on doing today, but she did it nonetheless as she excused herself from the room and the prying eyes of Yui’s classmates. Only when she’d left their vision did she pause to catch her breath. _I’ve done it now. I’m committed to saying something today. I have to tell them, or it’s just going to get worse. Yui-senpai needs to fight for herself, not me. They all need to fight. I need to win with my card… maybe I can trade places with Jun-chan. She’s good at having unwarranted confidence. I don’t even know where Ui-chan’s head is at, and Jun-chan’s getting harder to read too. No, I can deal with that later. I only have to think about what’s going to happen after school._

* * *

**November 23rd, After School**

Azusa almost wished someone would stop her from entering the clubroom. She didn’t really care who; Jun, Ui, even that Akira girl would do so long as they prevented her from reaching her destination. Ui was of little use in this regard, having continued to ghost her friends throughout the day, going so far as to claim having a stomach bug to avoid being in the same room as them during lunch. Jun had the opposite problem, acting far too chummy to present any form of challenge to her decisions for once. It was somewhat comforting, knowing that Jun was finally returning back to normal, but Ui and her senpais obviated any relaxation Azusa might have felt as a result of this development. She couldn’t tell how Ui and Jun were feeling about each other when they weren’t interacting either. _But none of that matters right now. I’m taking a step towards the future today. It’s the only way to make sure they stay focused on their own futures. This is for the band and for Azusa Nakano. _Pushing the door open, Azusa’s resolve withered as she was met with Tsumugi and Mio having a heated argument right in her face.

“You’re being unreasonable. I already went three times, didn’t I?”

“Ah, but I just went twice in a row. Don’t you think that means I’ve earned a reprieve, Mio-chan?”

“I can’t believe you all suckered me into doing this. This has to be one of the dumbest things we’ve ever done, which is saying something.”

Glancing back to the sign on the door to ensure she was in the right place, Azusa tepidly stepped into the hostile room. Tsumugi was seated regally on the couch facing the band’s practice area, hands resting in her lap as she held the gaze of the band’s dangerous queen like she was observing an interesting work of art. Mio was leaning against the wall by where the white board normally stood, fuming over whatever was going on. Said whiteboard had been relocated to stand in front of the chalkboard that served as a backdrop for the band’s rare practice sessions. Poking out from the cramped space between these two boards were two pairs of familiar legs, giving Azusa a decent idea of where Ritsu and Yui were. Based on the way the white board was shuddering and the chatter of the hushed whispers of two delinquents, Azusa could only imagine what abhorrent creation was being developed out of her vision. When Tsumugi noticed her kouhai enter, she gave her a smile. “Azusa-chan,” she addressed cordially. “Welcome. Sorry, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to practice today.”

“Azusa, tell Mugi she needs to go next! It’s not fair that I have to keep going just because Ritsu is targeting me with her stupid drawings!” Mio ordered, pointing assertively at the heiress. 

Edging away from Mio’s abrupt character change to be more like Ritsu, Azusa set her bag down next to Tsumugi. Despite her questioning look, Tsumugi only continued to smile at her while Mio made a poor attempt to calm herself, muttering about how ridiculous her band was. It was very apparent that the answers weren’t going to come to Azusa if she continued to sit on the couch silently. “Um, what’s going on?” she asked, tilting her head towards the white board. “Are we playing some kind of weird game again?”

“Yes, I knew you’d understand!” Tsumugi exclaimed, seizing the younger girl’s hands in her own and taking a year from Azusa’s life. “Azusa-chan, you should play too! It’s a lot of fun, and you don’t even have to use any game pieces! I didn’t realize games like this could be so exciting!”

Collecting herself, Azusa found her dignity just in time to shake her head. No amount of deference to authority could justify Azusa indulging in such frivolities, least of all today. She tried to extract her hands from Tsumugi’s grasp, but she might as well have tried to yank them out of a bear trap. With a newfound respect for Ritsu’s ability to break free of Tsumugi’s grip, Azusa was left staring helplessly at her senpai until Tsumugi realized what she wanted. When she was released to the blush of both girls, Azusa responded. “Just because I noticed you were acting childish doesn’t mean I want to join in,” she refuted callously. “I don’t even know what you’re doing. You have important things to-”

“I’m winning!” Ritsu cheered from somewhere behind the whiteboard, prompting Mio to roll her eyes. “You hush and just watch, you’ll see Nakano.” An arm with several black marker marks on it extended from behind the white board to point in the general direction of the couch.

Trying to puzzle out how Mio had allowed herself to be suckered into something like this wasn’t a task Azusa was interested in accomplishing alone. Looking to said Mio for any sort of assistance, the bassist averted her eyes, either still incensed from the game or too embarrassed over her outburst to comment. Only when she realized that Azusa had no intention of averting her eyes did the bassist concede to her silent demand. “I-it’s a drawing game. The baka and Yui came up with it. Two people draw something on the board and the other two have to guess it. If you guess both drawings correctly first you win and eliminate the other person guessing. If you both guess one of the drawings it’s a wash. The winner… ah, the winner gets, well…” Mio trailed off, unwilling to continue as she pretended whatever was outside the window was worth ignoring what was inside it.

“The winner, we decided, would win the competition for our futures,” Tsumugi filled in the blank helpfully. “We thought this was a more mature way to handle things that would avoid unnecessary hardship. I’m sure you remember our conversation from earlier today. You should join us, the next round is about to start. You too, Mio-chan, the view is better from here.” Scooting closer to Azusa, Tsumugi patted the empty seat next to her invitingly. 

As Mio huffed and turned her nose up at Tsumugi’s offer, Azusa found herself at a loss for words. Whatever criticism she had of her senpais and their methods paled in comparison to the inanity of what they were doing now. Mio’s abrasiveness was suddenly extremely justified in Azusa’s mind. Biting back an outburst of her own, Azusa rose and made a beeline for somewhere she could do something with her hands so they wouldn’t end up wringing the neck of the nearest senpai to her. “I need to feed Ton-chan,” she managed to get out as she ended up near Ton’s tank, pretending Tsumugi wasn’t staring at her in disappointment.

As she fed her club’s turtle, Azusa’s thoughts continued to storm amidst the game she could hear preparing to resume behind her. _You’re not the one who should feel disappointed, Mugi-senpai. How do you think I feel, knowing this is how the people I look up to are choosing to deal with their lives? I thought what they were doing before was stupid enough. Do they really not care about their futures? It doesn’t make any sense, especially when Yui was so adamant about living up to her side of the agreement. And it’s not like they don’t care, so why? Was I wrong in assuming she cared about this, about doing it for me? Wait, don’t frame it like that. Keep yourself focused. _“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Sawako asked, suddenly standing right next to her youngest student. “They’ve been going for a while and not a single person has gone out yet. You’re going to overfeed our turtle, by the way.”

Yelping and backpedaling away from the advisor, Azusa took a breath to steady herself and reassure the startled Mio that she was alright. Scooping out a few of the many food pellets she’d accidentally given Ton while she was brooding, the kouhai leaned in closer to Sawako. “What do you mean?” Azusa hissed out of earshot of her senpais. “Shouldn’t you be the most upset by this? I thought it was your idea. Why are you okay with letting them throw their futures away on a game like this?”

Sawako shrugged apathetically, making Azusa want to throw the soggy food pellets in her face. “As long as they’re okay with it, they’re free to do as they see fit with their cards. I just need them to make any decision, really, but I’d prefer they do something that benefits all of them. And that Tsumugi keeps bringing her tea and deserts. That girl could own a killer café I bet.”

Disgusted by Sawako’s lack of investment in the issue at hand, Azusa huffed as she finished her task. “Thanks for your help,” she thanked with only the most genuine of tones. “I’m so glad you’re here to advise our club in this difficult time.”

Shrugging away Azusa’s commentary, Sawako slid back into her seat. “You can have whatever opinion you want. Only one person here knows what a shitshow the real world can actually be, what it does to you, kid, and it isn’t you. Don’t let any of them tell you different. I’m just doing what I can to keep your bubble from bursting for a little longer. If I cared what you thought of me for that or anything else, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” The teacher paused, looking into her tea. “They’re at least right about one thing though: they won’t be able to make a decision without you, so you better make sure they do it fast.”

The glint in Sawako’s eyes told Azusa exactly what the teacher was referring to. It shouldn’t be surprising that a faculty member knew, but it still brought Azusa visible discomfort that said person was Sawako. Noticing the mistrust, Sawako sighed. “They don’t know, obviously, or at least I sure as hell didn’t tell them. I’ll leave that task to you. Whatever you want to think of me, just remember that I’ve been in a similar position to the five of you before. Getting paid for it helps, but I want to be on your side because I have an idea of what you’re dealing with. However you feel about my hobbies, you should know that when it comes to important things like my work and you all, I take it very, very seriously.”

Despite her misgivings and the untrustworthy aura her teacher gave off, Azusa felt inclined to believe her. While it could also be a side effect of Sawako being an intimidating authority figure unjustly wielding her power and reputation to get what she wanted, her teacher’s echoing of the same conclusion Azusa had spent agonizing for days to come to made her want to believe the woman. Hindsight bias wasn’t a luxury the kouhai had the time for. _She’s right. I have to do something. It’s how I feel, and that’s what matters. No point mourning over the lost hours considering that problem. I came here to burst the bubble for Yui and the others, to wake them up from the dream. That’s my condition for winning their game. Jun-chan is on my side. Even Sawako-sensei is on my side. I want my senpais to be on my side._

At this thought, the whiteboard suddenly flipped around. Tsumugi stood bolt upright and Mio got off of the wall to get a better look at Yui and Ritsu’s work. Despite her major misgivings, Azusa found herself moving to stand behind the couch to get a decent view herself, the sudden spark of energy in the room from Ritsu and Yui’s flamboyant presentation drawing her in. Yui’s telltale exaggerated drawing style showed through much more clearly when Azusa was able to get a better look, the senior having drawn what she assumed was a caricature of Ton doing… something to a guitar. It couldn’t be called playing, and the cat ears weren’t helping Azusa discern the purpose of the drawing either. Ritsu, on the other hand, had decided to draw some sort of location. It was obviously a closed room by the walls she’d drawn, but other than the copious amounts of what Azusa could only describe as marker vomit covering the floors, walls, ceiling, and parts of Ritsu and Yui’s arms, there was no way to tell what Ritsu was going for without any context. In the upper center of the white board, ‘Listen!’ was written and underlined in English, a sight Azusa found strangely familiar. “And time starts now!” Sawako announced, suddenly the referee to their game.

Though she had no idea why she was being timed, Mio and Tsumugi didn’t hesitate. “It’s Ton-chan and our clubroom!” Tsumugi guessed quickly, to shakes of the head from both Ritsu and Yui.

“Ritsu’s room and Ton-chan wearing cat ears,” Mio supplied, withholding the interest her body language displayed from her tone.

Several rounds of failed guessing passed. Azusa had a decent idea of what her senpais were getting at, but she wasn’t sure if she should actually guess. To interfere with the game right now could do anything from completely derail the topic of their goals, an issue that was already beginning to feel like it was shelved with the way everyone was behaving, to cause the group to shun her, which would be arguably worse. It was only through catching Yui’s eyes that Azusa felt moved to act. Over Tsumugi and Mio’s guesses, Yui stared right through her, as if challenging her to answer the question she wasn’t asking. Staring at Yui made her feel further away than ever, far enough away that Azusa’s lips moved to close the distance before her mind could stop her.

“Mio-senpai’s room and um, me as Ton-chan playing Giita,” Azusa guessed pointing to Ritsu’s then Yui’s images respectively.

At the guess, both Yui and Ritsu threw their hands up in defeat. “Why’d you have to go and do that?!” Ritsu complained, indicating her masterpiece. “I had these two stumped fair and square! Now neither of them is getting eliminated.”

“You should have specified who was allowed to play if you didn’t want Azusa to guess,” Sawako denied from her seat. “The ruling on the field is a successful guess by Azusa. Since neither Mio or Tsumugi got both right, the game continues.”

“Wait, that was right?” Azusa burst out, eyes fixed on the abominations on the white board, then their creators. “Yui-senpai, how is that supposed to be me? Are you telling me my only identifiable feature is cat ears?”

Yui pointed to what passed for Ton’s face in response. “Hey, I gave him your eyes! Besides, you guessed it, didn’t you? Doesn’t that mean you associate yourself with cat ears too?”

Caught in an unintentional trap, Azusa felt herself beginning to sweat. Everyone’s eyes were on here, but not at all how she wanted them to be. No believable lie came to her mind. “Well, um, I got lucky!” she protested, folding her arms and blushing. “I associate myself with Ton-chan because I handle most of his care. Besides, he’s cute.” Covering her mouth too late only made Azusa look more guilty.

The game was momentarily forgotten as everyone collectively raised an eyebrow at the kouhai, making her wish there was a way to fling herself out the window without someone stopping her. “Well, now I’m interested,” Ritsu spoke for everyone. “I didn’t think you were vapid like that, Nakano. Please, tell us more about your-“

“We’re supposed to be deciding who draws next,” Mio interrupted, nodding to Azusa. “There was no system in place for when Azusa came in. I don’t want to deal with this any longer than I have to, so let’s get back to it.”

There was pregnant silence in the room as nobody rose to provide an answer to Mio’s question. It shouldn’t have surprised Azusa at this point, yet she still felt some measure of disappointment at the lack of coordination she was faced with. _But I decided to do something. Embarrassment is fleeting, and this is something that I have to do._ This conviction sadly failed to tell Azusa what it was she should do next to accomplish her goal.

“If nobody has any ideas, then the people who’ve drawn the fewest times should go,” Sawako spoke up impatiently. “That’s Tsumugi and Azusa.”

“Me?” Tsumugi and Azusa answered at the same time, exchanging a look.

“Wait, since when am I drawing?” Azusa argued, having been preparing herself for the game to end entirely. “This isn’t my competition. This shouldn’t even be their competition. Why are you betting everything on a game like this?”

Ritsu and Yui had already taken their seats on the couch by the time Azusa finished protesting. Yui tossed Azusa a marker that she caught without thinking, getting her own marks all over her palm for her troubles. Tsumugi had made it halfway to the board by the time Azusa found the voice to argue once more. “Hey, don’t ignore me! What is wrong with you all? Don’t you understand how important this is?”

Mio muttered something under her breath that nobody else heard while Ritsu waved Azusa’s concerns off dispassionately. “Calm down, kid. It’s all part of my master plan. We have nothing to worry about.” Somehow, this failed to calm Azusa down.

Instead, Azusa could feel her blood starting to boil. Weeks of pent-up inaction were taking their toll on the kouhai, and Ritsu’s lack of investment in what Azusa considered as the most important thing going on right now finally managed to cause the rope holding her back to snap. “I’m not a kid, senpai, I’m 17. I’m also not going to sit by and let you all continue without a care in the world for your futures. You need to wake up and-“

“Azusa-chan?” Tsumugi interrupted, sticking her head out from behind the whiteboard. “Could you join me for a moment? I need your help. Bring your bag and the marker, if you will.”

Azusa was tempted to outright reject Tsumugi, but the puppy dog look in her eyes and her previous ignorance of Tsumugi’s invitation compelled her to listen. Staring down Ritsu to indicate she wasn’t done speaking, Azusa scooped up her bag and retreated behind the white board. Now in the confined space between the white board and the chalk board, Azusa found herself standing right next to the keyboardist. _Come to think of it, Mugi-senpai can be pretty intimate too, when she wants to be. I guess she just has more common sense than Yui does. Wait, that’s not the issue here. _“Azusa-chan, it’s because they’re taking this so seriously that they want to determine things with a game like this,” Tsumugi explained in a hushed whisper to bring Azusa back on track.

Azusa tilted her head, smacking it into the chalkboard and injuring herself. Pretending she didn’t have to stifle a giggle at her kouhai’s misfortune, Tsumugi rubbed the girl’s head kindly while Azusa attempted to quell the aching sensation coming from the collision point. Poorly muffled snickers from the other side of the board weren’t helping much. “I’m- ow- fine, senpai. What do you mean? I don’t understand. Shouldn’t I just end this game to get them to focus again?”

“You don’t have to,” Tsumugi answered gently without clarifying what she was referring to. “But I’ll put it this way: it’s much easier for them to say things were out of their hands once the decision is made, or that it’s what everyone else wanted, or even what one other person wanted. The truth is, I believe they all want a way out of this. I thought simply winning would be the easiest way to go about that, but unless you do something, I highly doubt anything I say would convince Yui-chan or anyone else. I want the best for us, but I can’t claim to know what path leads us there. I can only try to learn from our experiences to make everyone happy, whatever the cost may be. What do you think, Azusa-chan?”

Azusa paused, letting her bag claim the limited space between her and her senpai. She knew what it meant to have decisions made for her. By the way Tsumugi spoke, Azusa could tell she did too. In a way, she was aware of this already as a result of knowing Tsumugi’s upbringing and how she’d spoken at the dinner. _Mugi-senpai has problems too. We all do. That’s just another reason not to let my problems become their problems._ Azusa tightened her grip on the marker in her hand. “I want them to put their all into this,” she whispered, voice shaking. “I want to have a band to come back to.”

“Then don’t you think it’s time you explained that to them?” Tsumugi encouraged gently. “That’s what you came here to do, right? Tell us about why you’re with Yui-chan?”

Terrified, Azusa’s eyes widened. “You knew too?” she hissed, almost forgetting to whisper. “Did you tell Ui-chan?”

Tsumugi placed a finger on her lips playfully. There was barely a few finger lengths between them now, the heiress giving Azusa a look she hadn’t seen since the festival ended. “No no, I wasn’t certain, I just have a good intuition. I only brought up the idea to Ui-chan. If she decided to be certain of herself with that presumption, that was her decision alone. Don’t worry, Azusa-chan, I won’t interfere. Just draw what you think is the best thing to draw, and trust us to take care of the rest as your senpais, alright?” With that, Tsumugi left the space between them, retreating to the seniors on the other side.

The cramped space between the boards suddenly felt expansive with Tsumugi’s absence. There were a myriad of things Azusa didn’t understand. She knew what she came here to do, but it was apparent that she hadn’t adequately considered the effects of what would happen if she did it. _I knew what I signed up for, imposing on Yui though. I knew I was being selfish, and yet here I am. Since I’m here and not gone, that means I have faith in them. There’s no better way to prove that than by following thorough with my plan. The way I feel, the way the others feel that keeps them here despite the uncertainty and negativity floating around, that’s what the strength of HTT comes from. Even a band like ours could play at Budokan with that sort of power. That’s what I’ve chosen to believe in, and that’s how I’m going to look to the future, regardless of the present. Yui, Ritsu, Mugi, Mio… you all showed me I was wrong about what matters for a band. Please, give me the chance to prove I made the right decision here for our futures._

Minutes dragged on as Azusa remained unable to capture what she wanted to say in an image. She could hear the chatter of her senpais in front of her as she worked, the kouhai doing her best and failing to focus as snippets of conversation caught her attention just long enough to distract her before floating away right as an important point was approached. Though she wasn’t much of an artist, or any of an artist, Azusa had presumed that her subject matter was simple enough even for her. A begrudging respect for Yui and her art style welled up within Azusa as she erased another monstrosity and dirtied her hands further. It was as Azusa lamented how wonderfully roundabout the methodology of her senpais was that her eyes landed on her bag. Tsumugi’s request to bring it with her had been odd, but Azusa hadn’t been of the mind to protest in the moment. Only as she prepared to start her drawing anew did an idea flash in Azusa’s mind, causing her to nearly dive for her bag. Digging straight to the bottom, Azusa withdrew the item she was looking for and clipped it to the board. Whatever her reasoning, Azusa thanked Tsumugi for her foresight and intuition. Inspecting her handiwork once with satisfaction, Azusa stepped out from behind the board to reveal her creation. Ritsu, Yui and Mio, evidently still confused as to why Tsumugi came back from the board before Azusa, were even more lost when they realized there was only one picture on the board, more so that it wasn’t a drawing. “Go!” Sawako called out, uncaring of the flagrant disregard for the rules.

The four seniors remained silent, unwilling to even throw out a guess. Azusa began to become self-conscious as they sat in silence, staring at her work. _Why aren’t they talking? This is as unambiguous as I can make it. It’s literally a picture. Simple._

“I don’t get it,” Yui finally admitted, squinting her eyes at the picture Azusa had clipped to the wall. “Is this a puzzle of some sort?”

“No, I think you’re supposed to interpret it literally,” Ritsu denied, staring harder. “Maybe it’s actually just a white board.”

“I think it’s more about what isn’t there as opposed to what is there,” Mio threw out helpfully.

Tsumugi said nothing, smiling apologetically to Azusa as she stared at her senpais in disbelief. “Perhaps it’s missing something?” she posited, eyeing the floor.

Exasperated, Azusa turned to face the white board to try and figure out what her senpais were missing. Her mouth formed an o as she realized that the picture she’d attempted to clip to the whiteboard must have fallen off in her haste to turn the board around. Her blush over her mistake was interrupted by Yui’s voice. “Azu-nyan, are you bad at drawing?” Yui accused innocently.

Azusa tightened the cap on her marker, pretending it was her senpai. Yui paid the murderous intent flowing from her kouhai no mind, continuing to gawk at Azusa’s lack of a creation. When she managed to calm down, Azusa quickly rushed behind the white board once more. Scouring the floor, Azusa picked up the offending photograph she’d stolen from her scrapbook and darted back around the whiteboard. With much more care, Azusa clipped the photo to the white board, ensuring that it wouldn’t fall off. For good measure, she added several more clips to the sides and bottom, making it look more like she was preparing it for a dissection than a display. _Maybe this is just as roundabout a way of explaining things as it is them deciding things. But I have to be able to say this. They won’t notice this problem for me, so I have to be upfront. _“I couldn’t draw a picture, so I’m using a photo,” Azusa explained. “And who gets it doesn’t matter. I-“

“It’s us,” Ritsu pointed out obviously over the start of Azusa’s speech. “That’s from your photo album, isn’t it?”

It was indeed the picture Azusa had added to the photo album, and she nodded once to Ritsu, forgiving the interruption in favor of continuing. “Yes. Honestly, if you all want to continue, fine, but before that, I-“

“Aw, I was about to get it!” Yui complained, interrupting her kouhai again. “Azu-nyan, why’d you change the picture?”

Suppressing both the urge to indulge her senpai’s commentary and smack her for interrupting again, Azusa continued on like nothing had happened. “Before that, I need to explain a few things. I probably should have told you all sooner, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.”

Pausing to ensure she had the room’s attention and nobody else had anything critically important to add, Azusa took a deep breath. Any further delay would risk her losing her nerve. “Once this semester ends, I’m going to be moving. I won’t be attending this school next year either. My father got a promotion at his job, so we have to relocate. They already worked the details out over the past month or so, but I only found out this week.”

For all the buildup, Azusa had expected something to happen when she dropped that line. Perhaps a window would shatter or Sawako would have a heart attack from the shock. Instead, she was met with blank stares from everyone, Ton included. “So, anyways, that’s how it is,” Azusa continued, wondering if they’d missed the point the way she’d missed the picture on the wall. “I put this picture up because I know you’re all trying to decide what to do, and that you have to figure it out soon. It’s part of my album Yui-senpai gave me, and I guess what I’m getting at is that I have no intention of letting go of our friendship or the band just because we can’t be together next year. Because of that, you don’t need to factor me into your decision, but you do need to make it. Just because I won’t be here doesn’t mean I’ll excuse you all for messing things up because you can’t agree on what to do or you were too lazy to find a solution. I want us to be a band forever, and I want to be friends with my senpais forever, and I can’t do that, so you have to do it for me. You all could have amazing futures together, and I want to work as hard as possible to keep up with that. I want to have a goal to reach for while I’m gone.”

The words started to catch in Azusa’s throat, but she managed to turn to each of her senpais as she continued. “I won’t be the club president next year. I won’t be able to practice, eat sweets or drink tea. As much as I want those things, I can’t have them. But you all can. Next year, all I’m going to have is photos like this one. And after next year, once I’ve graduated and I can choose my own path, I want to have a band to come back to. If I have a card to play in this, that’s it. So… please stop fighting.” There was nothing else Azusa could say, the fickle, transient confidence she been endowed with ebbing away into nothing.

Azusa’s head lowered. _I hope that was the right thing to do. Not telling them would have been more selfish, but maybe I’m just burdening them further. _“I’m confused,” Mio finally spoke, breaking the silence. “If you’re moving, why are you living with Yui-chan right now?”

Having nearly forgotten that facet of the problem, Azusa found it within herself to face Mio fully. To leave loose ends now would only make the problem she was trying to solve worse. “I didn’t want to move. I still don’t,” Azusa confessed, clenching her fists. “When I first moved to this area, I had always known in the back of my mind it might be temporary, since we only came here for father’s job in the first place. Despite that, despite how temporary everything at home felt, I started to forget that it was a possibility as I got used to this place. I got angry at them for springing something on me when it’s my fault for not considering all possible scenarios. Look, I know there’s nothing that I can do, and that this is immature of me, but I just felt like, if I got out of there, I could run away forever and I wouldn’t have to face them. Therefore, I can’t go anywhere until you all decide what you’re going to do, so I know things are going to be okay. If I found out later that it was my fault everyone went their separate ways, I wouldn’t be able to take it. I… don’t want to be alone again.” The words made Azusa feel pathetic and she hated them and herself for them, but she forced every bit of the anxiety that had been piling up within her out at the mercy of her senpais.

“Why would it be your fault, Azusa-chan?” Tsumugi pressed, concerned. “It’s sad that you’re moving, but we could-“

“They wanted me to stop going to school as of this week,” Azusa broke in as her voice cracked. “If I’d stayed at home, they’d have made me stay home to get ready for the exam to transfer into my new school. I’d never come here again. I… couldn’t do that without knowing that you all were going to be okay. It was a selfish decision for my own sake, I know, but I couldn’t do it. So I told them I had things to take care of and left. I told them I’d come back, but I didn’t say when. I’m a junior. My future decisions are less important than yours, so I won’t allow you to worry over me when you have more important things to take care of.”

“You’re still in the student registry until the end of the semester,” Sawako piped up helpfully. “I checked when I found out. If it makes you feel better, nobody else except your teachers would know something like this.”

Nodding once to Sawako, Azusa faced her band. “So that’s how it is. I’m here because I want to shine in HTT, with you all. You don’t have to listen to me, because I know it’s illogical, stupid even, but I want you all to stay friends after high school, and I want you all to still be there when I’m able to come back. I’m sorry, but if I had a card, that’s what I’d write on it.” Sensing she couldn’t go any further, Azusa bowed once, leaving the floor open as she placed a hand on the nearby windowsill to catch her breath. _I did something. It’s done. Something has to change now. Something different has to happen._

This something turned out to be Yui wrapping her arms around the back of her kouhai. It was warm, too warm, and Azusa deftly ducked out of the way before Yui could solidify her grip. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in mixed emotions now of all times. “I’m just fine, senpai,” Azusa fibbed. “I told you all this so you wouldn’t worry about m-nya!” Azusa gasped out as Yui fully embraced her from the front, tears in her eyes.

“I’m not fine!” Yui cried out, not bothering to hold back her sobs. “Azu-nyan can’t go! What are we supposed to do without you?”

“Become adults, decide what to do with your lives, get jobs, ah-“ Azusa cut herself off when she noticed that Yui wasn’t listening to her, instead focusing on crying her eyes out into Azusa’s shoulder.

“Not to act like I don’t care, but this was going to happen sooner or later,” Ritsu pointed out. “I mean, it definitely sucks that it’s sooner, but you’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with this, Yui.”

Azusa opened her mouth to berate Ritsu for being insensitive before the sunlight in the window caught the tear falling from Ritsu’s eye. As soon as Ritsu realized what happened, she turned away, muttering about something in her eyes. Mio and Tsumugi weren’t in a much better condition, barely withholding tears as the reality they’d been dodging around crashed right in front of them. They looked like they wanted to approach, but nobody dared interrupt Yui as she crushed her kouhai in her grip. _I did this. This had to happen. Yui needed to come to terms with it, just like I did. It’s not like I haven’t shed my fair share of tears already. For today, I guess she can get away with being immature. _A darker part of Azusa took pleasure in seeing how much her senpais cared, but she quickly banished the thought.

When Yui’s bawling died down to sputtering, the senpai found it within herself to communicate with Azusa. “I’mb sory, Azunya. I jus- I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better senpai. I’ll never forget you, okay?”

Blinking, Azusa pulled Yui away from her so she could look into the teary orbs of her senpai. “What are you talking about? I’m not dying, am I?”

Yui’s frown deepened, like she wanted to go back where she came from. “But you’re leaving, and-“

“I’m not going anywhere until we have the date you promised me,” Azusa reminded her senpai, using whatever she could think of to make the girl in front of her cheer up. “We made a promise to at least be together until I gave you my answer, so I’ll uphold it. We can do it tomorrow even, if you want. I won’t go before we settle everything, and even then, we have phones. I won’t ever go too far. Originally I wasn’t going to tell you all, but this competition of yours is more important than my feelings. You all are my closest friends, and I want you to take the competition seriously without- eh?”

Azusa stumbled as Yui released her without warning. By the time she steadied herself with Mio’s help, Yui had snatched up a marker and started writing on the whiteboard. Biting her lip to prevent herself from cutting Yui off, Azusa looked on with the others as Yui wrote in handwriting only a small jump over indecipherable chicken scratch on the board. It was difficult to make out, but there could be no mistaking the crude English Azusa was reading.

_Hokago Tea Time has five members._

Azusa blinked at the words, then at the identical handwriting on the card Yui was displaying to everyone in the room, moist eyes glistening with brilliant determination. Time dilated for the kouhai as she watched everything she had just strived to defend blow up in her face. “This club has done more for me than I think any of you know,” Yui explained, continuing to hold her card up proudly over the shock on everyone’s faces. “But this club isn’t HTT. HTT is where I belong, and it’s where Azu-nyan belongs. If that’s how Azu-nyan feels, I don’t need to play this game anymore.” Satisfied, Yui looked to Azusa for approval.

In response, Azusa proceeded to smack her senpai across the cheek, holding back enraged tears. “What is wrong with you?! I told you that so you’d stop focusing on me and try to win what you wanted! It’s not about what I want, it’s about you figuring out what you and the others are doing with your futures! What’s so important about me that you can’t even think about yourself the one time you actually need to, huh? Answer me, senpai!” Azusa prepared to slap her again, but Ritsu of all people acted, rising from her seat to grip her kouhai’s wrist firmly.

“Enough. Let her talk,” Ritsu ordered, not letting go until she felt Azusa’s arm go limp. “You’re not yourself right now.” Azusa took exception to that, but she was too focused on Yui to retaliate.

Yui smiled, not even bothering to react to her reddening cheek. Her clemency in the face of Azusa’s aggression somehow only pissed Azusa off further. “You are special, Azu-nyan, but it’s not you, it’s everyone. I believe in all of HTT. My only goal here was to make sure that you were included in whatever we choose to do. I didn’t want you to turn away from us because of what I did, and I didn’t want the others to try to come up with a plan that didn’t involve the entire band. My parents, your parents, Mugi-chan and Mio-chan and Sawa-chan and Ui-chan and Azusa-chan go on and on about all the things we need to do to be happy in the future, and it’s too complicated for me. Like I told you, I’m not smart. I like things simple, and I trust you guys. Whatever you guys want us to do, I’ll give it my all. If I stay with everyone, things will always be fine in the end, ne? I am sad, but I know Azu-nyan wants to come back. That’s good enough for me.” Her words were inviting, yet Azusa could see the wall between Yui and everything else being erected with every word she spoke.

Despite what Yui had claimed, it was blatantly obvious to Azusa that she was scrambling to put distance between herself and the current situation as she thought of a way to explain. _No. You’re lying through your damn teeth, senpai. There’s no way Yui-senpai would be fine after just a few minutes. She was so happy when I appeared. Now it’s like she’s trying to hold herself together with duct tape and prayer. I can see that you’re hurting senpai. Why can’t you tell us how you really feel, what you really want?! Say something! _None of this sentiment made it to Azusa’s senpais, the kouhai drumming her fingers impatiently against the windowsill as she struggled to find decent words to counter Yui’s compelling argument. “I understand what you mean, Yui-chan,” Mio professed, rising to stand by Ritsu and Azusa. “Why don’t we just put this card competition aside? We can talk this out like the adults we are. If not for our sake, for Azusa-chan and the band’s sake.”

“If you’re so adamant about it, you go first,” an unconvinced Ritsu taunted, putting her hands behind her head.

To everyone’s surprise, most of all Ritsu, Mio took up the challenge eagerly. “Okay, I will!” Mio fired back, startling the drummer as she snatched the marker from Yui’s hand.

Wiping away the mess that was the remnants of Azusa’s failed drawings, Mio began to write under her friend’s message. Her strokes were neater than Yui’s, though the lack of preplanning going into her actions gave way to some imperfections in the top student’s handwriting. Whether that or uncertainty was what stained Mio’s work wasn’t a question Azusa was of the mind to answer, the kouhai struggling to keep up with what was going on at all. She could only look up at her senpai as she wrote her own dream on the board.

_We should all go to university together and continue as a band. Azusa-chan can join us if she wishes after she graduates._

“This is my proposal,” Mio stated, placing a hand on the board while revealing her card with the other. “If you have a better idea, let’s hear it, Ritsu.”

Ritsu blinked several times in disbelief. Then she grinned like she’d just found 10,000 yen on the ground. “Wow. I can’t believe that actually worked. Yo, ref, this means Yui and Mio are out, right?” The drummer asked for confirmation, looking to the lounging Sawako in the background.

“Yup,” Sawako replied as she watched Ton do a backflip in his tank. “The competition continues as long as one of you doesn’t want to quit, so it’s down to Tsumugi and you unless you both give up.”

It took a moment for that to sink in for everyone. What Sawako was saying made sense, in a way, but the inanity of the competition in general was making a strong argument against whatever weight Sawako or anyone else wanted to bestow upon the winner in Azusa’s mind. _Maybe they can make it work out. Mou, if you’d all forget the stupid competition and at least try to work together, maybe we’d get somewhere. Sawa-chan was just trying to throw us all off for some reason. Working together is the only way to fix this._

“Azusa-chan is right,” Mio supported, flustering Azusa as she grasped that she was speaking her thoughts aloud again. “Honestly, Ritsu, you’re going to keep this up? You know at least three of us won’t go along with it, and I’m sure Mugi-chan won’t-“

“I haven’t lost yet either, Mio-chan,” Tsumugi interrupted calmly, her voice blanketing over everything else in the room as if it was the most important thing by birthright. “I have no qualms with winning this competition for the sake of our futures.”

At this, both Yui and Mio exchanged a worried glance, already sensing a repeat of a past conflict brewing. Whatever else passed between them was something Azusa might have killed to be privy to, the rarity of Mio and Yui being on the same page too much of an anomaly to ignore. Sadly, their moment passed before Azusa got the chance, and her previous slipup ensured that she wouldn’t be pursuing the issue immediately. “Mugi-chan, are you serious? Don’t just play into Ritsu’s game, it’s what she wants. I don’t know what she’s doing, but we can just-“

“We all agreed to settle things this way, did we not?” Tsumugi questioned sharply, silencing Mio with the inflection of her voice alone. “If your idea is to work, Mio-chan, everyone has to be on board. It’s partly my fault things have reached this point, so I have no issue with shouldering the responsibility of convincing Ricchan to come around to my way of thinking.” The heiress, making full use of her upbringing, rose to look down on her club’s president.

“Ricchan, I do believe we should end things today. With Azusa-chan on borrowed time, it’s in our best interest to give her peace of mind as soon as possible. Wouldn’t you agree?” Azusa was nearly floored by how daunting the cute and innocent Tsumugi suddenly looked, but Ritsu didn’t so much as flinch.

The drummer yawned rudely before shrugging and burying her hands in her jacket pockets. Having Ritsu as the most relaxed person in the room was putting everyone else only that much more on edge. It was unusual to see Ritsu behaving at all like a leader, Tsumugi’s words from before the dinner replaying in Azusa’s mind. “Fair enough. Why don’t we take this somewhere else, then? I think everyone else still needs to process some things, and if we’re gonna settle things, I wanna do it right.” The drummer started for the door, motioning for Tsumugi to follow. “We’re just gonna step out for a bit and discuss some fun club future stuff. We won’t be long.”

Before anyone else could get a word of protest in, the keyboardist and the drummer left the room behind. Azusa was lost as the clubroom door shut the remaining girls in with finality. _This can’t be right. When they heard what I said, they were supposed to come together, find a solution they’re all happy with. That way, I can leave without any regrets. Yui-senpai wasn’t supposed to just give up, distance herself again. Mio-senpai was supposed to convince everyone how great her idea was. Mugi-senpai was supposed to feel like she belonged again, and Ritsu-senpai was supposed to… lead them? Mou, I don’t know. That’s always the problem. I don’t know, so I don’t act. I don’t understand, so I don’t do anything, and now I’ve gone and proven why I do that. Acting without understanding just messes everyone up. _“This can’t be right,” Mio declared, staring down the closed door as she echoed Azusa’s thoughts. “Why wouldn’t they listen to me? What am I doing wrong? I know Ritsu’s stubborn, but this is pushing it.”

Raising her hands in an appeasing manner, Yui attempted to placate her anxious friend. “You’re not doing anything wrong, Mio-chan,” Yui reassured, clearly uncertain about that statement. “I’m sure they, ah, just need to figure some things out. They’ll be back soon and we can talk about things, okay?”

“Yeah!” Azusa seconded. “They’ll realize they’re being stubborn and come back in no time. It’s not your fault, Mio-senpai. Ritsu-senpai is being stubborn.”

Mio shook her head in frustration. To the shock of both guitarists, the look they were receiving was one of ire. “Enough, both of you. I don’t want your forgiveness right now. Clearly I’ve misjudged how those two feel about this situation. I misjudged the two of you as well. I-, oh, never mind.” Storming over to the couch, Mio sat down hard on the wooden arm pensively. “It’s all just pointless bickering, wasting what little time we have, especially now that Azusa-chan is leaving. I’m supposed to find a solution for everyone. Why can’t they see what I’m trying to deal with here, how difficult they’re making everything?” Mio had devolved into talking to herself, head tucked in her hands.

It was the first time Azusa had seen a fear for something non-aquatic, non-paranormal, or non-hemal out of her senpai, and it scared her too. Azusa and Yui exchanged a worried look as Mio continued to brood. It was the same issue that had weighed on Azusa since the concert multiplied tenfold by the pressures of another year of experience, the signs of fatigue appearing all at once like a termite-infested cabin suddenly collapsing. “Mio-chan, I didn’t mean to put so much pressure on you to fix things,” Yui apologized as she attempted to approach the bassist again. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t figure it out myself. I tried, really. I’m gonna keep trying really hard, I promise. We can still do this, okay?”

It didn’t help that Yui’s words were echoing in a room that should have two more people in it. Even when Yui sat down next to her friend, patting her shoulder gently, Mio didn’t say anything. Azusa couldn’t tell if Yui’s presence was calming or aggravating the bassist, her hands clenching and unclenching in uneven rhythms that no musician could hope to follow. Fortunately for once, Yui was hardly a traditional musician, waiting attentively for Mio to make her next move as the seconds ticked away. At some point, Azusa ended up sitting on the couch too, though she couldn’t recall when that happened. There was nothing she could think to do to be helpful, but she didn’t want to be the only person standing up. The only sound in the room was the occasional sip of tea from Sawako and the background noises of Ton’s tank. With nothing to do, Azusa was able to appreciate how Yui could flip a switch and go from being impossible to be around to the most attractive, warm presence in the world when she wanted to be. _It’s so annoying. How am I supposed to get mad at her for what she did when she immediately tris to make up for it? She really is the pulse of the band. Maybe that’s part of the reason nothing feels right. Yui won’t be honest anymore, and that’s my fault. It’s why I had to be here, not that I could tell the others that part of it. Even if I did the right thing, I still changed Yui-senpai. It’s my responsibility to fix that. I want to know the answer to your question too, senpai. _Staring out the window, Azusa wondered, not for the first time, if she was doing the right thing as she claimed.

“I’m going to go after them,” Mio suddenly declared, rising out of Yui’s reach to her chagrin. “I’m not going to let them jerk us around like this, and I’m certainly not just going to go along with what they want just because they’re being stubborn. Do you two want to come?”

“We’ll catch up,” Yui answered for her kouhai before Azusa could agree. “I need to talk with Azu-nyan for a moment.”

Azusa raised an eyebrow at Yui, but the senior only smiled somewhat sadly. Mio took no stock in the interaction, already on her way to the door. “Alright. Well, don’t take too long. I’ll be settling this as soon as I find them.” With that, Yui and Azusa were left sitting on opposite sides of the couch in the dying sunlight.

They weren’t alone, but nothing behind Azusa felt like it was real, as if it wouldn’t exist so long as she didn’t acknowledge it. The warmth Yui had been exuding for her friend had died as soon as she was left alone with her kouhai. Azusa didn’t want to think about what that meant. She wasn’t even sure if she’d want to feel warm right now anyways. Everything else aside, she’d accepted that she couldn’t stay where she was any longer, and the farfetched hope that revealing her secret would make the hole opening up in her heart smaller was dashed brutally swiftly. “I wish you’d told me upfront,” Yui admitted to the silence between them, staring at the whiteboard. “You know I’d never turn you away, right Azu-nyan?”

“Maybe you should have,” Azusa responded without thinking. “I mean, it’s not like I wanted to get kicked out, but maybe Ritsu-senpai has a point with all her talk about breaking things off cleanly. It just feels like the longer we let things go on, the harder it gets. That’s one reason why I wanted to try and end things today, but it looks like it didn’t work. All I did was make you give up.” There was a hint of accusation in Azusa’s tone that Yui didn’t address.

Instead, Yui made a contemplative noise to herself, something between a grunt and a snort that was decidedly unlike her. The older guitarist was deep in thought as she continued to lock eyes with herself on the white board. “I give up all the time, but I haven’t given up on us, Azu-nyan. Where Azu-nyan goes, I’m going to go,” she stubbornly informed her kouhai. “I get my energy from you all. If I have a goal, that’s all it is. I don’t need anything else, to get my energy from somewhere else. Isn’t having that, having friends and enjoying yourself and never wanting that to end the point of life?”

The response came off as lazy over anything else to Azusa, and she had to resist the temptation to berate her senpai outright. She could launch into a lecture she’d received herself many times about the nuanced facets of adulthood and responsibility, but she already knew it would go right over the head of someone who had a hard time remembering what time school started. _I can never decide what to do. Yui is confusing. _“I don’t know how I feel about you,” Azusa admitted. “I know how I feel about Yui-senpai and the band, but I don’t know how I feel about Yui. I’m not sure if I even knew that Yui existed this whole time, and I hate that. I hate that you didn’t feel like you could be honest with me about how you felt, and I hate myself for proving you right. I hate everything about this situation. I just want to go home.” The frustration came spilling out of Azusa, the kouhai unaware of what she even meant by going home at this point.

Yui smiled in a way that prevented her from appearing to be happy. “Don’t be mad at yourself for that, Azu-nyan. It was my choice. I should apologize to you for-“

“Enough,” Azusa cut off, staring angrily at her senpai. “We’ve been over this, and I don’t want to hear it. I told the band how I really feel. When are you gonna stop pretending that you’re okay? At least when you were crying I could tell that you cared. If you’re supposed to be on my and the band’s side, you shouldn’t just give up on your card, no matter how stupid the competition is. Why are you suddenly okay with everything?!”

“Because Azu-nyan and everyone else needs Yui to be okay right now,” Yui responded immediately, startling her kouhai. “They need me to be okay right now, so I’m going to be okay. That’s all Yui can do. Yui and Yui-senpai are the same person, Azusa. Who’s in charge, who has the mask on doesn’t matter, it’s all me. I’m not smart enough to solve anything, but I can avoid making things worse. I know how to do that much.”

“I disagree,” Azusa denied, punching the couch behind her in useless anger. “I get not wanting to face the problem directly. It’s all most of us have been doing this month. I don’t want to face my parents, moving, any of it. But none of that is the reason I ran. I ran because you told me you felt the same way, and that was the Yui I believed. I ran because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle going away if I thought you’d do something stupid because I was gone. I’m here because you made me feel like I could try doing something impossible. It’s not even a matter of what I want or not, this is something I had to do. One damn date and the truth is the least I can do after the past two years.”

Yui and Azusa stared at each other. For her part, Yui appeared to be perplexed, as if she was considering a math problem with one too many variables. Azusa wanted to convey exactly how she felt, but she could tell the words weren’t coming out right, the kouhai getting in the way of herself as she tried to convey exactly what the person in front of her had done for her. _I don’t know much about love, but I know what my heart wants. My heart wants to be with Yui-senpai and the others and to keep playing music with them, but they’re being so frustrating. Yui-senpai is frustrating, but she’s also caring. She’s hiding because she says she cares? Am I supposed to press her on that? If I open that door, ask myself what it would be like being around HTT, being around Yui-senpai every day in spite of growing up, would that work out okay for our futures? I haven’t considered all the factors involved, but I promised to put more faith in my senpais. I have to live up to my promises, if nothing else. A Nakano shouldn’t break a promise, father._

The two girls had been looking directly at each other for an inordinate amount of time. It occurred to Azusa that time in general seemed to fluctuate in speed when Yui was around, and also that she should probably break eye contact. “I’m glad you were able to take your mask off, Azu-nyan,” Yui spoke softly as Azusa averted her eyes to her shoes. “I don’t know if I can do the same thing, though. Unlike you, I’d just be doing that for myself.”

For once, the right response was obvious to the kouhai. Azusa scoffed, nudging her senpai’s shoulder with her own. “You’re a moron, senpai. What’s so different about you doing something dumb for yourself as compared to the last two years? Don’t tell me you want to change things now after everything that’s happened. What about your promise?” she goaded, indicating the white board. “You said that person in that picture was Yui. That person is part of who HTT is to me, who Mio, Ritsu, Tsumugi, and Azusa are too. They’re who I want to be, how I want to be. Everything beyond that I still need to figure out, but I’m never going to deny what I want anymore.” _It’s why I need to reevaluate what it is I actually want from you, senpai._

Yui pouted, which wasn’t what Azusa was expecting. “I don’t want to be an airhead forever,” she protested. “I broke your promise not to let anything change already, Azu-nyan. I need to be mature, so I’m not constantly burdening everyone with worrying over me or having to ask others for everything. I’m about to be 18. It’s funny that we’re the same age right now, Azu-nyan, and you’re still more mature than I am. I never really thought about us being the same age for just these couple weeks, but I like that. It makes me feel closer to you.”

_Then why are you trying to distance yourself?! _Azusa refrained from yelling. Instead, she nodded in agreement. “It’s strange, I guess. By the way, I’m not going to immediately forgive you for that stunt you just pulled.”

“Eh? What stunt?” Yui asked, completely lost.

Indicating the board once more, Azusa sighed. “Giving up immediately after I just tried to explain why you shouldn’t give up. Whatever your reasoning, I’m not the sort of person that can just ignore that. I’m going to make Ui-chan withhold dessert from you for the foreseeable future.”

Of everything that had happened, Azusa was extremely disappointed that this threat was what got the largest reaction out of Yui. “Azu-nyan, no! How am I supposed to function without both you and food! Aren’t you going home soon?” the senior wailed, annoying the teacher behind the pair.

“You said you wanted to be mature, so act like it,” Azusa impassively responded, stepping away as Yui attempted to drag her to the ground with her groveling. “If you’re serious about what you said, I can make schedules and plans for you to improve yourself. We’ll go over things as many times as it takes to get them to stick in that head of yours. If we can’t at least get you to act a bit more presentable, there’s no point in us going out on a date.”

Rising from clutching Azusa’s ankles pathetically as she begged for the return of her sweets, Yui’s mood flipped instantly. Apparently the word date had been all it took for Yui to lose interest in food. “You still want to go on the date?” Yui asked.

Azusa shook her head condescendingly to cover for the embarrassment she was feeling. “Of course. It’s for me as much as it is for you. We can even do it tomorrow, if you don’t have anything going on.”

Having suddenly fallen quiet, Yui shook her head. The burnt orange sunlight caught the senpai as she stood there, reminding Azusa of their confrontation on the bride a week ago. Emboldened that she had chosen to move forward, Azusa took the hand of the senpai shining in front of her, insisting that, at least for now, it was okay. “Let’s go do something fun tomorrow, just us, okay? Forget about everything else. I just want to have fun with you. That would be good, right?”

For a horrifying moment, Yui said nothing. Azusa had no idea what Yui saw when she looked through her with those distant eyes of hers, what she was seeing when she wasn’t there. All that mattered to the kouhai in the moment was bringing her bandmate back. “It would be good,” Yui muttered, finding it within herself to smile at her kouhai.

Happy she was able to do something right, Azusa nodded to herself. “Good.”

“Would you two go after your band already?” Sawako complained from the table. “How am I supposed to enjoy my tea with you two acting so lovey dovey in here?”

Mortified, Azusa leaped away from her senpai. Yui smiled to herself, nodding towards the door. “Sawa-chan is right for once. We should catch up to our friends. You want to make sure things turn out okay for us, right?”

“I will make sure things turn out okay,” Azusa corrected, taking the lead hurriedly as a front for her embarrassment as she left the room. “Come on, we have a lot of searching to do.”

When she was certain that the door was closed, Sawako allowed herself a smile. Everything was going more or less the way she wanted, albeit with her getting less of the credit than she would have preferred. Her eyes caught the movements of Ton in their peripheral vision, the only remaining motion in the classroom drawing her attention away from the eerie lack of presence in front of her. “I think you’re my favorite HTT member,” Sawako informed the turtle. “At least you can appreciate it when someone sticks their neck out for someone else.” Ton did not respond, but Sawako assumed he completely agreed with her.

* * *

**November 2007**

Ritsu collapsed on the floor, spreading her limbs as far away from themselves as they would go. Pushing her limits for something besides teasing Mio had proven to be a rewarding endeavor after all, evidenced by the performance she and her friends had recently put on. The warm tingling of an absolute lack of desire to do anything spread from the center of her body to the tips of her fingers and toes as the energy she’d used to drum finally abandoned her. She was well fed, content with her creative endeavors, and surrounded by her best friends. There were certainly worse positions she could be in in life. Her only regret as she stared emptily at the dark ceiling above her was that she didn’t have the energy to prank Mio at the moment, which was unfortunate given her vulnerable position. Ritsu’s head lolled to one side. Somewhere above her, a duvet shifted slightly as Yui fidgeted, the selfish airhead having stolen Mio’s bed from her and promptly fallen asleep before anyone could protest. It wasn’t as if Ritsu could be mad at Yui; she was just as exhausted as her friend was. She was more upset that she hadn’t thought to steal Mio’s bed first, leaving with a sleeping bag like Mio and Tsumugi. For tonight, everyone, even the club’s resident screwup, would get a pass from the club president.

Though she couldn’t see the time, Ritsu assumed it was past midnight. She knew she needed to sleep, but her mind raced like nothing she’d ever felt before, apparently not getting the memo the rest of her body had put out. Everything about that performance had been exhilarating, her vantage point at the back of her stage allowing her to look out at her band as they made their world debut to an adoring crowd of their peers. At least, Ritsu assumed they were adoring from the crowd reaction. She’d spent so much time focused on herself and her bandmates that she hadn’t really paid attention to the crowd’s reaction. In her defense, Mio going out of the way to steal the show with her heavenly voice and her risqué accidental panty flash at the end had given her plenty of other things to focus on besides the crowds. Glancing to her right, Ritsu could see Mio’s still form obscuring Tsumugi’s sleeping bag. An illicit urge to reach out to the bassist and wake her up was ignored. Even if she could write it off as a prank, Ritsu couldn’t condone breaching the implied trust Mio had decided to put in her and their friends after today. _She’s had a rough day already, having to sing in front of everyone. Back in middle school, she refused to sleep in the same room as me when I came over. Maybe having the others here changed her mind. Guess the band’s been good for both of us. I’ll have to take more of the credit for that tomorrow. We make a good team, don’t we Mio? _The thought fell short of reaching the unconscious bassist.

Looking around pointlessly in the darkness, Ritsu discovered the energy necessary to extend a rough hand to her friend, tousling Mio’s hair gently so as not to disturb her. It was fine, soft hair, unlike Ritsu’s own coarse locks that she constantly had to fight to keep out of her face. Anyone who saw her right now would probably call her weird, even a pervert, but Ritsu couldn’t suppress the urge to say something any longer, and she wouldn’t be able to say it when someone could hear her, especially Mio. _Mio. Are you happier now? I am, so that means you better be too, alright? _“You did a great job today. I know it was hard. We made some good friends, ne?” Ritsu whispered, her voice thin enough to be obliterated by the lazily spinning fan overhead. “You… I hope you’re happy too.”

Sighing quietly to herself, Ritsu withdrew her hand and rose to her feet. The interaction had left her with too much pent up energy to simply sit around waiting for sleep to claim her. Hoping Mio’s parents had thought to stock something for insomnia in their fridge was her first and last gambit to combat this problem. Stumbling out the door and down the stairs on protesting legs, Ritsu found her way into the kitchen using memory from plenty of previous late-night adventures to steal Mio’s food. Her thievery tendencies had gotten bad enough to the point that Mio’s parents had started leaving snacks in a portion of the fridge specifically for the drummer when she came over. Sometimes Ritsu felt guilty about that, but only ever in hindsight. Pulling out a carton of milk, Ritsu nearly dropped it when the kitchen light was switched on, temporarily blinding her. Spinning around with several lies on the tip of her tongue, Ritsu relaxed when she realized who had exposed her to the light. “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Ritsu greeted, closing the fridge door. “Milk?”

“Is that okay?” Tsumugi fretted cutely, eying the beverage warily. “We shouldn’t impose on-“

“Relax, Mugi,” Ritsu reassured, already pouring two glasses of milk. “I come to Mio’s all the time. They think something’s wrong if I don’t take stuff from the fridge.”

Tsumugi smiled softly, rubbing her eye with one hand while the other fiddled with her pale yellow nightgown. Of the four of them, the heiress had been the most enthralled by the proposition of a sleepover, so it was less surprising to Ritsu in retrospect that she couldn’t sleep. “I see. Then thank you, Ricchan. I wanted to sleep, but I can’t stop thinking about our performance. It really was something, ne?”

Pouring two glasses of milk, Ritsu quickly set about heating them as she replied. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about it either. If Mio wasn’t so exhausted from being forced to sing and Yui wasn’t Yui, they’d probably be the same way. Guess we have to try harder next time, eh?” The implication was completely lost on Tsumugi, so the drummer decided to drop the admittedly lame joke.

“I’ve been on plenty of stages before, but this was a whole new feeling altogether. How can I put it? It just felt like everything we’ve been doing finally clicked all at once, like a key fitting in a lock. All our afternoon tea times really feel like they paid off in the end.” Tsumugi had a talent for being able to carry a conversation, more so than Ritsu especially Mio could claim, the heiress moving on without so much as acknowledging Ritsu’s word stumble. It was a skill the drummer had made a mental note to learn from the keyboardist sometime, though something else always seemed to come up.

Handing Tsumugi a cup of warm milk, the drummer frowned. “I don’t know if I’d credit what happened out there to our tea times, but I get what you’re saying otherwise,” she agreed before pausing to take a sip. “So you think we were any good? Be honest, Mugi. You know stuff about music, right?”

Taking her own sip, Tsumugi frowned contemplatively as she thought, crossing her legs as she leaned backwards on a wall. Ritsu might have been able to believe Tsumugi was taking the question seriously if she wasn’t sporting such an obvious milk mustache. Ignoring the stifled giggles of her comrade, Tsumugi started to think aloud. “Hm. It’s harder to make that judgement as one of the players. We certainly exceeded my expectations. I think our band could still use some rounding out overall, but I also don’t think our musical prowess is what’s most important for our club. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Thinking back to how they’d spent the months leading up to their concert, Ritsu found herself nodding. “I suppose so. We aren’t much of a Light Music Club, but it’s certainly been fun as hell acting like it. I guess Mio and I owe you and Yui for that, so, ah, thanks. Don’t tell Mio I thanked you.”

“Can I tell Yui-chan?” Tsumugi asked innocently.

Ritsu nearly spit out her milk. “Eh? No! That was just a blanket statement. I meant don’t tell anyone and not Mio in particular. Got it?” Sometimes Ritsu forgot that Tsumugi was ill-versed in the ways of normal things like secrets between friends and showers that only had hot and cold settings.

Fortunately, Tsumugi appeared to understand what Ritsu was saying on the second pass. She nodded distractedly, so much so that the drummer began to question what Tsumugi thought she was understanding that needed so much comprehension. “Should I not mention you talking to her just now either then?” she posited curiously. “It was rather cute, how you were whispering in her ear and playing with her hair like that. I wish I had my camera on me.”

This time Ritsu actually spat out her milk, miraculously failing to hit anything but the kitchen island. Scrambling for time to recover, the drummer fumbled for some paper towels as she tried to come up with a response. Tsumugi acted as well, helping Ritsu locate what she was looking for and aiding in the clean-up duty silently. “You saw that, huh?” Ritsu managed to get out as they finished wiping the table down. “Why does that matter? I was just fooling around. I was thinking about how I could mess with her hair while she was sleeping, but it was too much effort, so I gave up.” It wasn’t the most convincing argument, but Ritsu’s mind was apparently in the most uncooperative mood possible tonight.

The heiress smiled knowingly, which came off as terrifying to her friend. “I feel like I know you well enough to be able to tell when you’re pulling a prank, Ricchan. It’s obvious that the chemistry between you and Mio-chan is unique. If you two are-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Ritsu practically begged, dropping her towel to seize the hem of Tsumugi’s nightgown. “Mio isn’t like that, okay? Don’t even think of implying something like that around her. Just pretend you didn’t see anything, okay?” Ritsu realized she probably looked pathetic, but desperation was the only sensation she felt at the moment.

Placing her hands reassuringly on the hands that were attempting to strangle her, Tsumugi remained unperturbed. “If she’s not like that, are you?” the heiress innocently questioned.

Stuttering, Ritsu noticed her mistake too late. “T-that doesn’t matter!” she insisted, pulling away like she had somewhere to run to. “You’re twisting my words around here! I don’t have to tell you anything!”

Tsumugi tilted her head, concerned. “Ricchan, your preferences are of no concern to me if you don’t want them to be, but I would support you whether you preferred males or females. You know that, right?”

Recognizing that she was being more suspicious with her behavior, Ritsu managed to calm herself down. It wasn’t as if she had directly confessed to anything, which meant she still had the denial option if Tsumugi decided to gossip. Then again, this was Tsumugi, who could probably only ever be tried in court for being too nice to people. Eyeing the eager girl in front of her suspiciously, Ritsu decided it was about time she put some trust in someone other than herself with this problem, not that she’d have chosen tonight to do it. “I hear you, and I appreciate that,” Ritsu spoke, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve thought about it, but, ah, as long as Mio and I are happy how things are, I don’t feel the need to change anything, you know?”

“I don’t understand much about relationships,” the heiress confessed sadly. “But even I can tell that you and Mio-chan are more comfortable around each other than most childhood friends are.”

“And it needs to stay that way,” the drummer emphasized to her friend as she relaxed her grip. “If she found out I was feeling… weird about things, she’d find a way to make it her fault. The friendship we have wouldn’t survive something like that. We stay together because we make a decent team, nothing more, nothing less. Please just leave it at that, Mugi. How I feel is best left as far in the past as possible. It’s old feelings, so there’s no reason to bother Yui or especially Mio with it, okay?”

To Ritsu’s infinite gratitude, Tsumugi nodded. She retrieved her cup of milk and offered it to her friend, who accepted it gratefully. “I don’t think you’re weird, Ricchan. I wouldn’t dare think less of you for who you like. I want to be the kind of friend that can encourage and support my friends no matter what they’re doing. What really matters is the feeling of love between two people anyways. I don’t know if it’s romantic or not, but I do think Mio loves you, so you shouldn’t feel bad about feeling the same way.”

The words struck Ritsu in a way she hadn’t expected, her milk spitting act nearly coming back for an encore. Nobody had ever spoken to validate the feelings she’d kept bottled within her so easily, knowingly or otherwise. She and Mio both had had their own suspicions regarding Tsumugi’s sexuality from her previous behavior, but nobody felt the need to press her on it after Ritsu had asked her upfront and failed to receive a direct answer. “I appreciate that,” Ritsu replied as she made sure the milk was completely swallowed before speaking. “You can count on me in that regard too, Mugi. Who you like doesn’t matter to me, either.”

Part of Ritsu had been hoping to find some solidarity with Tsumugi from that statement, but the blonde only giggled lightly. “Of course, Ricchan. Your secret is safe with me. In exchange, though, can I make a request?”

Sensing the chance to gain leverage in the exchange, Ritsu would have jumped on the opportunity immediately had guilt not made her hesitate. _Do I really not trust Mugi that much? She and Yui are good people. I shouldn’t need something like this to keep her from talking. No, I’m doing this because Mugi is my friend. _“Shoot,” the drummer prompted, folding her arms casually. “I don’t have any money though.”

Tsumugi let out a twinkling laugh, lightening the burden Ritsu’s soul had just taken on. It was a serene spring breeze wafting through the room, warming Ritsu’s body that only just now seemed to recall that it was supposed to be tired. “I want to keep having lots of fun with you and the others. I want you, as the club president, to make this the most fun club in the school. I’ve learned so much from being around you and everyone, and every day has been a lot better since I’ve met you all. I want you to keep that up forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Ritsu mused, scratching her chin. “That’s a long time. I’ll have to find a way to live forever, for starters. Then there’s the issue of living forever with Mio…” the idea brought mixed feelings to the drummer as her thoughts took a rational turn.

_Does she know what kind of order that is? Nothing lasts forever. One day we’ll have to face the fact that we won’t be around each other every day anymore, if at all. People become your friends, stay for a while, then leave. I tried accepting that when I realized Mio and I never made the same letter grades, but she still kept popping up in my life. I can barely remember not having her around. When we graduate, she’ll probably go to a top university, and I’ll be lucky to get into a school at all. But that’s forever away. For now, there’s only one answer. _“Eh, screw it, we’ll play it by ear,” Ritsu agreed, giving Tsumugi a thumbs up. “You’re gonna see a club like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. I’ll teach you all the ins and outs of the lives of us commoners. You’re always gonna be one of us, Mugi.”

Watching Tsumugi clap her hands excitedly over Ritsu’s grandstanding almost made the drummer forget her blunder. For the moment, she had nothing to worry about. _Mugi’s a good person. I should trust her more. She’s always down for whatever dumb shit Yui and I get into. Club presidents have to trust their subordinates, anyways. She needs some work, but I could turn this into a very interesting couple of years with everyone’s help._ “What are we going to do first, president?” Tsumugi asked eagerly.

Smirking, Ritsu pointed dramatically at her friend. She’d decided to form this club, so the least she could do was put it to good use. With that in mind, there was only one thing to be done when you’d just shared a secret with your least socially versed friend. The drummer wrapped an arm around the heiress, waving the other one in front of her as if there was some sort of display to look at. “First, allow me to welcome to Ritsu’s school of life, Mugi. You’re gonna learn everything I had to teach Mio to make her better at talking to people and not being a Mio. Lesson one: how to lie to keep your friend’s secrets.” By the way Tsumugi’s eyes lit up, Ritsu knew everything was going to be just fine.

* * *

**November 23rd, 2009 **

“So, how much of what just happened was you?” Ritsu accused, turning around to walk backwards, facing her partner with her hands behind her head. “Don’t bother lying. I can’t believe that everyone would suddenly stop caring so easily.”

Until this point, Ritsu and Tsumugi had been wandering silently around the perimeter of the school, the sun lazily sinking behind them as they observed various clubs going on with their activities. The falling temperature only emboldened the spirits of the athletic clubs working outside, pushing themselves that much harder through their drills and exhausting Ritsu just by watching. No matter what time of day it was, the school always managed to feel alive to Ritsu, more than any building probably had the right to be. Even while spending the night in the clubroom during the cultural festival Ritsu had noticed signs of activity from various rooms as she and her friends had wandered the school grounds just as she did now. There was always something going on, equally complex lives being led that Ritsu would likely never be aware of or share any part in. Were she Mio, that sort of thinking might have been enough to bother her. For the drummer, it was a reassuring release of pressure, a soft reminder that finding alternative solutions to problems could always be made easier when your problems were made less important. It was what made pain much easier to deal with than getting hurt. As she and Tsumugi passed by the athletics building again, Tsumugi deigned to respond. “I wouldn’t dare lie about something this important,” she defended calmly. “I believe most of this business with the cards was some sort of contrived scheme from Sawa-chan to make us come to a decision sooner rather than later. It’s likely she’s feeling pressure from her senpais to get career plans from all of her students, so she created this plan to expedite discussion of the topic among us. In that regard, I believe she succeeded, even if I don’t have a firm grasp on the moral quality of her motivations.”

Ritsu hadn’t considered the idea of Sawako having ulterior motives besides bullying her students into wearing maid outfits. From her perspective, Sawako was just challenging Ritsu’s authority as a leader to guide the band. It was like the teacher had implied that if she couldn’t win at a measly game like this, she had no right bringing 4 girls under her wing to challenge the game of life. _Meh, not like I’m interested in playing, anyways. It’s no fun playing when you know the outcome. I say that, and yet I tease Mio. Mou, I can’t even sound cool in my head today._ “That’s a cynical answer,” the drummer judged, kicking up barely dry dirt with shoes she wasn’t supposed to wear outside. “And it doesn’t explain what happened today. You knew about Nakano moving, didn’t you? That whole whatever thing that happened behind the board wasn’t exactly subtle.” 

Tsumugi didn’t have to look down guiltily for Ritsu to know she was right. Ritsu felt like a teacher admonishing a student rather than a friend accusing a friend, and the feeling inspired her to wait for Tsumugi to speak._ You still don’t get it, Mugi. I’m on your side too. I’m on the band’s side. Hell, most days it feels like I’m the only one on the band’s side. _“I wasn’t certain, but I had a strong suspicion that was the case after the dinner,” Tsumugi admitted. “A large part of that suspicion came from the conversation you overheard, but a bit of it was from my own experiences. I know you asked me to not interfere, but I… I don’t think that’s a fair request. Ricchan, I really, really, really don’t know why you’re resisting our college idea so much. I really want to understand why, Ricchan. If your reasoning is good enough for you to deny our suggestions so adamantly, then help me understand so I can agree with you.”

Rounding a corner, Ritsu seriously considered being upfront with her friend. This idea was seriously discarded quickly when she added her history with this strategy into her considerations. “So you’d listen to me now, after what you and Yui have been doing with your running around messing with people’s heads all month?” she presumed, waving a hand in the air impassively. “Don’t think I don’t still have a bone to pick with you over that, Mugi. I’ve already got Mio on my ass about it when she has way more important things to be worried about. Why are you asking me questions like that when I’ve been so busy trying to clean up after you and the lovesick puppy that I haven’t had time to think for myself?” Ritsu’s own words filled her with a righteous anger that she fought to quell. _Getting pissed now will just make things worse. Gotta stay calm._

Linking her hands behind her back, Tsumugi looked out at the town’s horizon. Ritsu spared it a glance too, admiring the scenic backdrop of a town turning in for the night as much as she could, given the circumstances. It was technically a lie, since there would be plenty of streetlights activating to shatter the illusion of rest once the sun actually went down, but for the moment, Ritsu felt it was alright to pretend. “Fair enough. Equivalent exchange would demand that I give something worth what I intend to receive. Have you noticed how Mio-chan and Azusa-chan have been behaving? Acting like everything is fine, I mean.”

The question was offbeat enough for Ritsu to pause to consider it. Azusa had barely changed since the dinner. If anything, she appeared to be trying as hard as possible to exist in the background as the club sorted out their own issues, at least until today. Mio, on the other hand, had made it excessively clear that she intended to confront the problem directly without ever pushing for her own side. _Because that would mean making a decision that might hurt someone. It’s not weird that they don’t know what to do. _“I don’t see what you mean,” Ritsu dismissed simply. “It’s Azusa and Mio. If anything, Yui’s the one acting off with how chirpy she’s been since Azusa pitched her tent with her.”

Smiling like she’d somehow just cornered a rat, Tsumugi took the lead in their pacing. They were walking back towards the school now, somewhat in spite of the sun threatening to leave their path home blanketed in darkness. “It’s because they don’t appear different that something’s wrong. This situation absolutely calls for some sort of aberrant behavior, don’t you think? We are talking about our futures. Why are you and I the only ones still standing after only a few days, with one simple game being enough to change everything? Doesn’t it feel like they don’t have an idea for themselves of what to do?”

Sighing, Ritsu eyed the blonde warily. “Maybe we’re the real idiots for believing in Sawa-chan’s dumb plan. I don’t know. I’m here because I don’t want to give everyone false hope. I think everyone could do better and be happier doing their own thing in college. It’s painful, sure, but we’d get over it. It wouldn’t hurt like trying to do something we couldn’t do without a safety net and failing could. No matter what we do, we’re losing a fifth of our circle next year. I suck at math, but I’m pretty sure you can’t use four fifths of a tire to drive a car. With that in mind, why are you here, Tsumugi?” The question stopped Tsumugi dead in her tracks, Ritsu coming to a halt as well.

Something shifted in Tsumugi’s eyes as a response to Ritsu’s challenge. The two stared each other down across the meter or two separating them on the school outskirts path. When Tsumugi spoke, Ritsu was listening to the heiress to one of the largest business conglomerates in Japan. “Ricchan, this may be forward of me, but I need to say something. I’ve been more or less keeping track of what everyone has said and done for the last few weeks because I want to bring this unpleasantness to a conclusion as soon as possible. Motivations aside, of everyone in the band, your actions have been the most contradictory.”

“Contradictory?” Ritsu echoed, not so much as flinching. “What, because I know what it means for us to graduate?”

Tsumugi shook her head. The way her blonde locks practically shimmered against the backdrop of the dying light and the barren trees planted behind her momentarily distracted Ritsu. She’d seen this side of Tsumugi several times, and though she knew how to handle it, even she could admit that the heiress could make her break a sweat if she wanted to. When it came to getting what she actually wanted, Ritsu hadn’t needed to teach Tsumugi anything. “I mean with refusing to accept that we have a chance here. The Ricchan I know will always charge forward blindly towards something she wants, headfirst without thinking. The only exception to this was when she realized that doing so might hurt the people she cares about, and I loved that about her. For all her, ah, bluster, she really did care about her friends. It made me glad that she convinced me to join the Light Music Club, and I’ve never seen her as anything but a leader, albeit not in the traditional sense. That’s why I don’t understand why she’s trying to run away now. Even with Yui-chan and your difficulty with getting into college, even with Azusa-chan being left behind, and even with how you feel about Mio-chan, it doesn’t make sense to me. These aren’t the kind of problems the Ritsu I know would shy away from. I just want you to justify it to me, so we can understand and help you.” Tsumugi clasped her hands together, the bandages around her arm far more pronounced with the marker markings from their game marring it.

Ritsu broke eye contact first, searching the ground for a useful idea. If she were to explain herself now, would that weaken her stance? _I came back because I didn’t want to end things with a bad taste in my mouth. If that’s true, I won’t be able to not tell the whole truth forever. I could tell Mugi, but that’s as good as telling the others. I shouldn’t make that mistake again before I’m ready. But I can’t do nothing. Then I’m just as bad as Mio. _“Sorry, Mugi,” the drummer apologized, her shadow crossing over her friend as she stepped away from the stare down, towards the line of trees off the path. “But I don’t know the Ritsu in your head. If I did, she’d probably know what to do to make things right. The Ritsu I am just wants to enjoy life as it is. Thinking about the future the way you all do makes me want to hurl, but I’m doing it anyways because I’m the club president. The bottom line is my job is to make our time here fun. I can’t do that if I know everyone is throwing away their future for the sake of the club. If that’s how they want it to be, then I have to take responsibility and end things myself. I’ll never not be any of you guy’s friends, and because of that I have to know when what we’re doing is bad for us overall.” It had been a while since telling a lie had left Ritsu with such a dry feeling in her throat, like she was swallowing cotton, but she forced her face to remain neutral. _There’s nothing wrong with this. This is how things are supposed to be._

At Ritsu’s words, Tsumugi’s head drooped as well. “I see,” she whispered, Ritsu nearly failing to hear her. “Ricchan, I realize that you shouldn’t trust me with your real reasoning. Maybe it would be better if Mio-chan or even Yui-chan was here instead of me. A long time ago, you asked me to promise to keep a secret with you. I broke that promise. Whether I feel it was justified or not, that is an immutable fact. For that, I’m sorry.” She bowed, so low that Ritsu felt grateful nobody was standing behind the heiress.

Blushing slightly over the encroaching cold and the situation in uneven parts, Ritsu attempted to wave the apology off. In an attempt to remain casual, she leaned against one of the nearby trees, the arboreal support tilting threateningly under her weight. “We’ve been over this, Mugi. I do appreciate the apology, but I told you to just leave it alone. This isn’t about that. You don’t have to-“

“I do!” Tsumugi insisted, rising and stepping right into Ritsu’s personal space. “You say we’re allowed to fight and make up. I think I understand that now. If I want to understand you, you have to understand me. If I want to make up for revealing your secret, I have to show that I trust you as much as I want you to trust me. Let me trust you too, Ricchan.”

Uncomfortable was the only word that came to Ritsu to describe how she felt. The drummer tried to fall backwards a step, but she’d already unintentionally cornered herself with the tree. Every part of Tsumugi was trained on Ritsu, and the drummer felt the weight just as heavily as the tree behind her did. _Do I trust Mugi? I mean, yeah, but not with something like this. I don’t even trust Mio with this. My logic isn’t going to convince someone like her. It would be impossible, so it’s not worth discussing. It’s like trying to play without practicing, which is something we also do all the time, making that a bad example. I don’t know how to make them understand the difference between this band and our friendship. Well, fine. I have to at least give her a shot. It’s not like she’s trying to destroy everything I care about, it’s just a really shitty side effect of something I should be trying to prevent. _

Taking the time to dislodge herself from the tree and put some distance between herself and Tsumugi was the first step. The second was pocketing her hands so Tsumugi couldn’t see she was shivering. The final step was the part Ritsu was still working on, which involved hoping whatever came of her mouth solved the problem. “Go on then. If you’ve got something to say, then say it. I’ll listen, if nothing else.” It startled Ritsu just how much she meant that.

For all the calamity she’d endured as a result of the heiress and the others since the festival, the aching desire within her for the normalcy of after school teatime hadn’t faltered in the slightest. If anything, the monster had grown more ravenous, desperate to indulge itself in what Ritsu was withholding from it with her actions. _But it has to be this way. Even considering the best-case scenario, Mio still gets hurt now, and we all get hurt later. Better to do it now when the stakes are lower. Never bet something you’re not completely prepared to lose, or whatever they say. _

With Ritsu’s blessing, Tsumugi took a deep breath, preparing herself adequately with some sort of pumping up ritual that made Ritsu feel as awkward as possible and thank her lucky stars again that there was nobody around. When she felt ready, Tsumugi stepped in to close the already small distance between her and Ritsu, making Ritsu’s earlier move redundant. “Okay. I’m ready. You really can’t tell anyone about this, Ricchan. It would be… bad if people found out.” The heiress leaned in further towards Ritsu’s ear. “The truth is, I don’t have a family anymore.”

Half-expecting Tsumugi to be joking, Ritsu raised an eyebrow. “What, like they’re dead? Aren’t your parents bigshot rich people? I feel like it’d be on the news if something like that happened. Your comedic timing still needs work Mugi.”

When Ritsu withdrew to look Tsumugi in the eyes, she realized she’d made a mistake. There was no hint of mischief in Tsumugi’s cerulean eyes, nothing to indicate she was anything but deadly serious. “No, they aren’t dead,” Tsumugi responded, solidifying the mood her expression was creating with her tone. “What I mean by that is they separated years ago. Divorced is the best way to put it, but as far as our business is concerned, they’re still together. It’s a complicated situation, but the summary of it is that they chose not to make their separation public for the sake of the business and its health. To my understanding, they still work rather well together in that aspect of their lives, if our benchmark reports are to be trusted.”

Pausing, the heiress fiddled with the bandages on her palm. “I believe they did love each other when I was younger. I was doted on heavily as a child, and to think the time we spent together then was fake doesn’t ring true for me. Looking back, it was more like sheltering. It still is, I suppose, but that’s not important. I don’t know what caused them to change. There was no event to signify it happening. They never fought with each other, we just started spending more and more time apart. The butlers started taking me to and from school. My parents wouldn’t be able to come to my piano recitals. The estate felt quieter. I’ve never heard my mother raise her voice in her life in the time I’ve known her. At first I thought it was because of work, but when they stopped showing up to meals together, even younger me figured something was wrong.” An unbandaged finger wrapped itself in Tsumugi’s hair, winding and unwinding as Tsumugi emptied out her mind to her friend.

Ritsu was unable to tear her eyes away from the heiress. Her expression was nostalgic, with all the bittersweet tasting nuances that came with that emotion. Even if she hadn’t been prompted beforehand, Ritsu could have guessed that Tsumugi had never talked about this to anyone before. “All the decisions had been made before I worked up the nerve to say something. I was their wonderful, flawless family heirloom. I didn’t want to say anything that would imply otherwise, even if I should have. Mother left with a goodbye and a promise to visit, and I haven’t seen her in years. Several of the servants were fired, some went with mother. One… one of them passed on. I don’t know exactly where all of them ended up. I still remember their names, though father would scold me for mentioning them. The man I was left with was the head of the Kotobuki family and nothing else. It was like everything that made him my father had been discarded. To prevent the conglomerate of our businesses from fragmenting, he and mother manage from fracturing, they covered up the whole affair and put on a front of unity for the public. Their subordinates praise them, and those who know the truth and haven’t been paid off or silenced through other means are practically nonexistent. If the word got out, there’d be a power struggle, a violent contest for control of the company that would likely only end in ruination for our family name, so father says. That’s the pedigree I’m supposed to inherit from them.” It was a bleak prediction, but Ritsu noted the lack of concern for the possibility in Tsumugi’s tone well. “I see them appear on television together occasionally. That’s how I see them now, people doing things where I can’t see them while they expect me to be ready to take their place, inherit the mess they made and unify everything like nothing happened. Father talks about me like I’m some sort of bandage to be applied to fix his mess and let him and mother wash their hands of everything. I don’t even know if that’s how they really feel. There’s so much I don’t understand, but every time I try to look into it, I get stopped or I find something I didn’t want to know. That’s when I realized the people who raised me are strangers to me now. It’s why, when I got to high school, I resolved to find somewhere else I could belong, meet new people and make new friends. I told myself that’s what the friends and family I lost would have wanted, even if they were more real to me than they were to them.”

The heiress raised a bandaged hand to her chest, slowly unwrapping the bandages with her good hand. White gauze and black marker intermingled as pink skin was slowly revealed, faint pale lines reminding Ritsu why the bandages had to be put there in the first place. Tsumugi held her hand out as she worked her way down the arm, practically demanding that Ritsu keep her attention on it as she spoke. “But I found so much more than that. When I found you all, you were nothing more than dolls to me, interesting things I could play with while I whiled away what remained of my youth. I was so, so wrong, and even now I’m still realizing how warped my thinking has been. At some point, you all quickly went from being a distraction from what I’d lost to filling the hole in my heart, like you were always supposed to be there. It took my mind so much longer to catch up to what my heart figured out years ago, and I apologize for that, truly, but with the Light Music Club, I feel like I have a whole family again. That’s why I’m trying so hard, Ricchan, why I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stave off what you all say is inevitable. The Light Music Club is my family; I accept that we can’t always be together even with that title. I’ve known from the beginning that that demands of my birthright will endeavor to wrest me from you all when the time comes, but I refuse to give up when I know there’s still time that can be won for us. Yui-chan and Mio-chan don’t want to give up. Azusa-chan defied her own parents just to steal a few more days to help us settle this. Even if the odds of success are slim, I intend to try to become my own person when I finish college, to become more than the mold I was born to fill myself into, a fix for a problem I had no part in causing. As for the how… I don’t know, exactly, but I was hoping I’d be able to get some help figuring it out from my best friends.” Finishing her unwrapping, Tsumugi allowed the bandage to drift to the ground, revealing a card that had been concealed under Tsumugi’s bandages. “I want to play with my friends together in college.” With that declaration, Tsumugi handed the card she’d just revealed to Ritsu, revealing an identical statement in typewriter handwriting.

Ritsu hadn’t ever seen someone look as beautiful, perhaps even angelic as Tsumugi did, standing there in front of the last vestiges of dying sunlight. Even the tears running down her cheeks appeared to want to get off Tsumugi’s face as soon as possible so as not to mar the beauty of the girl who created them. It was as if the sun itself had descended to give Ritsu a message before succumbing to the night, leaving the drummer staring in disbelief. She had no idea where to begin unpacking what she’d just been told, only that she now had a card that wasn’t hers in her hand. “I… I don’t get it,” she confessed, stumbling backwards a step. “Why would you tell me something so important? After everything you just said, you throw it away just like that? And the family thing, what do you want me to say to that? What would anyone say about that? Are you trying to get me to pity you?”

“Of course not!” Tsumugi insisted, stamping her foot assertively and shattering the delusion Ritsu’s mind had been building for itself. “I’m trying to make you understand why I care, because I want you to be able to tell me why you care. And it’s more, so much more than what I could possibly say in just these words. It’s the games we play, the songs Mio writes, I compose, and we all perform together, the tea and cakes Yui loves, the adventures you get us into, the future Azusa promises for us, all of the normal things piling up into reasons why I couldn’t possibly not care. I’ve seen what the real world is like, Ricchan, how it warps your priorities, takes away what you care about and expects you to be fine with it if you intend to survive. It scares me, and I think it scares all of us. But I think, together, we might be able to face the future just a little bit easier. Nobody is a doll. I’m not my father’s doll, and you all aren’t my dolls, not even close. I’m not arrogant enough to promise change instantly, but I’ll do my best to improve my conduct if it means I can be around even just a bit longer with you all. I want you to come with me, Ricchan. It won’t be the same as it has been, but this way I at least feel like things have a chance to be better. Wouldn’t that be fantastic?” Wonder filled Tsumugi’s voice as she extended her freed hand to her friend.

Ritsu continued to remain paralyzed, as if she didn’t understand that the extended hand was for her. People like that weren’t supposed to extend their hands to people like her, especially when reminders of why they shouldn’t still ran across their open palms. Pangs of guilt rang out from the drummer’s soul. _You say it’s not to make me feel bad, Mugi? Then why do I feel like crap right now? Right, because I’ve been denying what you and the others want since the festival. For our own good. Is that it, or is it for me? I’ve been saying it’s both this whole time. Should I just tell her? Can I do that?_

“Backing me into a corner like this is hardly fair,” Ritsu complained, finding her way back to the tree to regain her bearings, leaving Tsumugi’s hand unclaimed. “Yui did it first, but you and the others keep putting the pressure on. Since you showed me that card, though, I don’t think I can sit here and say nothing. It wouldn’t be very fair of me. Here’s how I’m looking at things, Mugi: Let’s say everything goes your way when we go with your plan. Mio, Yui and I get into that university with you, everyone is happy, cheers all around, Azusa joins us next year and has excessively detailed make out sessions with Yui that would change the age rating of our band’s origin story when they think nobody is looking. Fairy tale ending, but it’s not. If we follow each other to college, we’re only pushing the problem we’re facing now down the road, except uh oh, we made it worse because we spent our college years focusing on hanging out instead of working to get a job. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for that kind of life, but you and Mio shouldn’t be. I get wanting something else out of your life, Mugi, and I’d love to do what I can to support you, but do you really think that if we stay together via college we’ll be able to upturn the odds and become a band that succeeds together? Is risking our career options worth that when we could always just be friends? Is Mio sacrificing getting a recommendation to a top university worth that? Just to push these goodbyes down the line a little further? I’m… not the sort of person you want around when you’re trying to take life seriously. You found us, Mugi, and I’m damn glad you did, but it’s a huge world out there. If we keep our heads buried in the sand here, it’s only gonna get worse when we graduate college.”

“So what’s your plan then, Ricchan?” Tsumugi countered, refusing to retract her hand. “What could you have in mind that you’d want to do that’s better than what we have planned?”

Feeling her emotions finally surpass their boiling point, Ritsu pounded a fist into the tree she was leaning against. “I DON’T HAVE ONE, okay?! I don’t have a damn clue what to do. What you said about your family becoming strangers to you, all that crap. It’s not crap, it’s important and I appreciate you telling me, but all that crap. If… if I stick around here much longer, I’m afraid that’s going to happen to you all too. Especially Mio. As we’ve gotten older, it’s gotten more and more difficult for me to justify being friends with her. I don’t help her at all. I’m just the annoying childhood friend she can’t get rid of because we’ve known each other too long, and she’d big-hearted enough to throw away her future prospects for someone like that. I don’t want to stick around to watch myself become less important in all of your lives. If Yui and Azusa get together, what do you think that’ll mean for the rest of us? Would you stick around someone you cared about if you knew some guy was eventually gonna show up and take her away from you forever? If nothing else, you can understand that, right? I-I I just hate that I can’t do anything. Watching everything fall apart isn’t how I want to spend the next few months, and carrying on like things aren’t going to have to end soon is either. I’ll never not be the friend of anyone here, and as long as things end here, I don’t have to ever question that.” Rubbing the tree where she’d punched it, Ritsu turned back to the conflicted Tsumugi.

Though her hand remained stubbornly open, Tsumugi was carefully considering what Ritsu had said. When she felt that Ritsu was done, she took the drummer’s open hand in her own. Minor scratches where the drummer had struck bark in anger were covered by nubile skin. It was soft, and it only made Ritsu feel worse. “We’ve all made mistakes, Ricchan. But you’re the one who showed me that we can recover from them. Maybe it didn’t mean much to you, but my family is very black and white. In business, there are winners and losers with no in-between. It’s why they prioritized their business over everything else, even each other, even me. But real life shouldn’t be like that. I learned that from being around you all. I want to keep messing up with you all, and I want you to mess up and be honest about it with me. If bad things happen, I want to know my closest friends are nearby to help. I want to be the keyboardist of HTT forever, no matter what happens in the future, and I think we can do it if we really want to. Who would stop us?”

It was an ironic statement, coming from Tsumugi. A list was already forming in Ritsu’s mind, composed of plenty of living and non-living obstacles to the end of the fairy tale, but she didn’t bother to list them off. She knew that Tsumugi knew as well as she did the opposition they’d face if they turned away from the truth now. _No. Mugi is facing the truth, she’s just choosing to reject it. How… strong. I’m not that strong. I’m nothing, when you get down to it. I’m anything but what I say I am. Sawa-chan was right. I don’t want to be their leader. I only give a shit about myself. But if that were true, then what I do next should be obvious. _“You should let me go, Mugi,” Ritsu suggested softly. “You’ll just get hurt again.”

To Ritsu’s shock, Tsumugi complied, releasing her hand easily. Ritsu looked incredulously at the heiress, who smiled over the tears still dotting her eyes. “You can let go, but I’m never going to retract my offer,” Tsumugi explained, leaving her hand partially extended. “No matter where you go or what you all do, I’m always going to be your friend too. I just think families should stay together.”

It infuriated Ritsu sometimes that she had such genuine friends. Yui was too airheaded to hide her emotions, Tsumugi too sheltered, Mio and Azusa too blunt or anxious. Were it not for her being the leader, it was likely they’d have an actual Light Music Club. The idea somehow comforted Ritsu. “I came back because I wanted to settle things properly, Mugi,” Ritsu reminded the keyboardist. “And that’s what I’m going to do. What you just did was hard. Smart, no, but hard. It was very you, I guess. Look, I’m not saying this right, but I’m sorry for being a tool about some things, even if it was somewhat justified. I’ll never tell anyone what you said, and I appreciate you putting your trust in me. If you have a plan for after graduation… I’ll listen, but I won’t make any promise beyond that.”

Ritsu wished she had her camera to capture the way Tsumugi’s face lit up. It baffled the drummer that words, half-hearted apologies she gave reluctantly from someone like her could cause such an intensely happy reaction in someone else, even someone like Tsumugi. Her anger ebbed away just in time for it to come back as Tsumugi tackled her in a hug. The pair fell against the freezing grass, barely missing the tree Ritsu had been leaning on. “Thank you, Ricchan, oh thank you! I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we all pass our entrance exams! I love you, Ricchan!”

Hiding her blush was easy when Ritsu was already blushing from the effort of trying to stop the freakishly strong girl embracing her to let her breathe. The burning cold running down her spine from the damp ground wasn’t helping matters either. “Okay, okay, I get it, spare me!” Ritsu begged, flailing around helplessly.

After what felt like the entirety of November, Tsumugi mercifully let go, allowing Ritsu to stand up and shake herself off like a dog. Tsumugi ignored this, rising casually like nothing had happened. “You know,” Tsumugi thought aloud as Ritsu searched for one of her shoes that had come flying off when her friend assaulted her. “You should be more confident, Ricchan.”

Slipping her damp shoe back on, Ritsu raised an eyebrow. “Where’s that coming from? I might not have to prove it often, but I am the face of our club as far as the school is concerned. I can talk good if I need to. Ask Nodoka.”

A hand found itself over Tsumugi’s heart as the heiress smiled knowingly. “Not like that. I mean with Mio-chan. You know she really likes you, right?”

Looking down, Ritsu sighed. “Don’t start, Mugi. I don’t need you to tell me that. Things between us are fine how they are. I just need to wait for her to let it go.”

“Or you could forge something stronger than what you have,” Tsumugi posited. “You know, I’d do anything to have a girlfriend like you, Ricchan. If your concern is related to finding a relationship, you could always date me, Ricchan. I’d be more than happy with dating someone like you, if you’d have me. I’m not Mio-chan, but I’d do my best to make you happy.” The heiress blushed, training her eyes on her feet.

The very idea of that send Ritsu’s addled mind on an extended vacation. The only appropriate reaction to this compliment was to smack Tsumugi in the head. The heiress yelped, the scene somehow seeming familiar to Ritsu as she berated her friend. Ritsu felt a little bad as Tsumugi pouted at her, but only a little. She knew from plenty of experience how to smack somebody properly. “Why would you follow up your nice pep talk with something like that?! What kind of help is- ah, crap. Mio, I can explain, I-ack!”

Ritsu gasped in pain as Mio’s decidedly painful smack sent her to the ground for the second time in as many minutes. She hadn’t noticed the bassist approaching until it had been far too late. The only thing in her vision besides Mio’s brown outdoor shoes was Tsumugi’s crumpled notecard, having ended up on the ground when Ritsu had last visited. “I can’t believe you’d actually resort to violence,” Mio berated in disgust, not getting the hypocrisy. “Are you alright, Mugi-chan?”

“No no, it was a misunderstanding!” Tsumugi defended adamantly, flailing her arms in worry as Mio attempted to check where Ritsu had made contact. “It was my fault, Ricchan deserved to smack me for that. Please, don’t be mad at her.”

Mio stared suspiciously at Tsumugi. Confirming for herself that Tsumugi didn’t appear to be hurt didn’t stop the bassist from shifting her wrath back towards Ritsu. “I have plenty of reason to be angry with you besides whatever might have just happened,” Mio justified to hide her embarrassment, not backing down. “What have you two been doing? You’re both soaked. Mou, and here I thought you were both still taking things seriously. I came out here for nothing.”

“Yeah, thanks for the free shower,” Ritsu sarcastically thanked as she picked herself up again. “You could stand to be a little more trusting of me, you know. Mugi here appreciates my company, at least.” Ritsu wrapped an arm around the heiress’s shoulder, inciting a blush in the blonde.

The bassist huffed and folded her own arms, as if she needed to prove she had something to do with them. The sight was familiar enough for Ritsu to smile. _You came because you were worried, huh? Didn’t want to let mean old Ritsu win our little game, but I’m sure you didn’t phrase it that way to the others. Well, too bad. I’m the club president here, and unfortunately for the rest of you, I’m going to start acting like it. You all wanted the truth, so you’re getting it my way. _Mio was about to comment further when something caught her eye. She picked up the crumpled notecard Tsumugi had discarded next to her used bandage. “You showed it to her?” Mio asked incredulously as she read the handwriting. “Mugi, why?”

Without hesitation, Tsumugi placed her arm around Ritsu to match the arm Ritsu still had around her, which would have made the two appear rather odd to any potential passerby. “I trust Ricchan. She’s the club president, ne?”

Mio opened her mouth, but she was too dumbfounded to respond to such a blunt answer. Feeling energized suddenly, Ritsu broke out of Tsumugi’s hold to point at Mio. “That’s right. I won, so for the immediate future, your lives belong to Ritsu,” the drummer gloated, hoping she looked as evil as possible.

“Immediate future?” Mio repeated, confused. “This was supposed to be to determine what we were doing next as a band, was it not?”

“Of course!” Ritsu responded simply, elated that her idea was being put to such great use. “There was no specification on when the idea had to be implemented, was there? While you all were piddling around with weird futures, I was planning what our actual next move would be. I’ll reveal it when everyone is here to hear it.”

“Hear what?” Yui asked, appearing right behind Ritsu with Azusa in tow.

After jumping almost as high as Mio in shock that Yui was there, Ritsu calmed down to enough to realize that Yui and Azusa had followed them. Aside from their appearance being incredible convenient, Ritsu was somewhat surprised that Yui and Azusa were sticking so close to each other. Taking in the sight of the band, her band, caused Ritsu’s heart to swell. It was a prideful feeling that she’d been ignoring for the past month, knowing that indulging in it any further would make March hurt more. _But maybe they have the right of it after all. If I’m gonna be here, I should make the time count. That’s what the point of my card is, isn’t it? The personal stuff always comes second for a club president anyways._

Sweeping her gaze across the adorably scornful Mio, the curious Yui, the supportive Tsumugi, and the concerned yet hopeful Azusa reaffirmed Ritsu’s decision. Whatever came later could wait. Right now, this was her band. “Well, since we’re all here, I’ll just say it. I was originally planning to do this later in the year, but if Nakano’s leaving, we can probably get it moved up to about a week or so from now.” The club president of the Light Music Club triumphantly revealed the winning card tucked in her jacket pocket. “Before this club disbands, we’re going to play at Budokan!”


End file.
